


Harry Potter and the Cursed Locket

by EliteDelieght, punkrockbadger



Series: rewrite potter [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst With A Crappy Ending, Canon-Typical Manipulative White Guys In Power, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Major character death - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Second War with Voldemort, depictions of ptsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 90,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliteDelieght/pseuds/EliteDelieght, https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockbadger/pseuds/punkrockbadger
Summary: The only thing worse than one Potter kid is two of them, and the only thing worse than two of them is all of them. The students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, unfortunately, get to learn that the hard way. But as the Wizarding World hurtles even more rapidly toward destruction, is having all of them, for once, an advantage?





	1. Teenage Dirtbags

**Author's Note:**

> This week, we find ourselves in August 1996. 
> 
> For those of you who want some fun facts: The Summer Olympics (hosted by Atlanta, GA) have just ended. James, Harry, Drew and sometimes Matt are watching the Lombard U-15 Challenge Cup (which India will eventually win against Pakistan, but they don't know that yet) on the edge of their seats. Microsoft has just released Internet Explorer 3.0, though the wizards remain unaware of the miracle of the Internet. For those of you that care about the British Royals, Prince Charles and Diana are about to get a divorce.
> 
> Somewhere in this world, S is eight months old and doesn't know crap about Harry Potter yet. Yeah. Time flies, doesn't it?
> 
> We'll see you next week with an adventure in Diagon Alley and the retribution we've all been hungering for for months!
> 
> -S&L

“Anju?” Harry called ahead, as he ran up the stairs. They’d left her alone for five minutes, figuring the task of trying to get Sarah out of her room would hold Anne’s attention enough, but anything past five minutes of silence was too dangerous to be left alone. Harry had lost the family wide rock paper scissors match, moderated by Uncle Remus, and had been sent ahead to his death. “How’s it going?”

Evidently, it wasn’t going well.

Anne was sitting on the windowsill at the end of the hall, her arms crossed over her chest. “I haven’t bothered trying. If she wants to sit around and mope all day, who am I to stop her?”

“Do you ever think about the fact that the only time Amma and Appa bothered actually trying to have a kid, it turned out like that?” Harry pointed at Sarah’s door, scrunching up his nose in disgust. “They should be more thankful for the rest of us.”

“What, like you’re any better?” Anne raised an eyebrow as she pushed away from the windowsill, the golden locket she’d been wearing since last Christmas glinting in the sunlight. “They should have given up after the first kid, honestly.”

“Listen. I’ve fought Voldemort four times. What have you done?” Harry rolled his eyes. “Little punk.”

“If I had a chance, I’d do it better than you.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Uncle Sirius would agree.”

Harry turned around abruptly, quickly making his way toward the stairs.

“AMMA!” He yelled, taking them two at a time, which was hilariously unsafe but absolutely necessary. “WE’RE SELLING ANNE TO THE ORPHANAGE!” He only slowed down when he turned into the living room, angrily flopping down on the couch.

She hadn’t just implied that.

She couldn’t have.

“We are not selling Anne to the orphanage.” James Potter said calmly, as he turned the page of the newspaper section he was reading. “We are giving her to them and asking nicely.”

“I doubt they’d take her.” Drew said from the doorway. “She’s been a real piece of work this summer.”

“We’re all dealing with the situation differently.” Lily said diplomatically.

“We can stop calling it a situation, you know.” Remus pointed out, from his seat next to James. “We all know exactly what topic you’re trying to avoid. James, the sports section please?”

“I don’t have the sports section.” James replied, turning another page.

“And I’m expected to believe you’re reading the business section that excitedly?” Remus asked. “You act like I haven’t known you for some twenty-five years now.”

“Fine.” James groaned, pulling the sports section out from where he’d hidden it behind the business pages. “Take it from me. Please.”

“It’s like I’m married to a teenager.” Lily sighed, her footsteps fading as she left the room.

“He was a teenager when you married him.” Matt’s voice came from behind the couch. He used to fit there easily as a child, but now it was shoved an extra foot away from the wall to accommodate him.

“Good point.” James said, reaching back to ruffle Matt’s hair. “That’s why he’s my favorite.”

“You shouldn’t say that when your other kids are in the room.” Drew pointed out.

“I can have multiple favorites.” James countered. “Every one of you could be my favorite. I just have to like all of you equally, which I do.”

“Yesterday you said you didn’t care much for Hari.” Matt said.

“I like three of you equally, and then there’s two of you that I’m hoping get better with age.” James shrugged. “Pick whichever category suits you.”

“A pound says it’s Anjali and Hari.” Drew mumbled.

“I’ve gotten better!” Harry protested.

“Remember, I didn’t assign anyone to any category.” James scowled at the business section. “Anyone who decides they fit somewhere is doing it all on their own.”

“Someone else can deal with Sharada!” Anne suddenly stormed into the room. “I don’t care if she rots in there! Good riddance!”

“We do care if she rots in there, Anjali.” James said, folding the paper and setting it down. Remus snatched it up almost immediately, as if afraid that James would decide to take it away. “She is family. Be civil or don’t say anything at all.”

“She can be my family from her room, then! God knows she doesn’t come out.” Anne snapped.

“We are all having a difficult time.” James said, as calmly as he could. “And we are choosing to deal with it in different ways. Some of those different ways are more harmful than others. Charu is waiting it out in her room. Not harmful. You are yelling at all of us. Harmful.”

“What’s harmful is being cooped up in here with all of you.” She narrowed her eyes. “This whole family is insane. I can’t wait to be rid of you.”

“If anyone’s allowed insanity, it’s us.” James said. “Regardless, the acting out and all this attitude? Not appreciated. Things are hard. I understand that. But lashing out at us when we’re trying to help is rude.”

“You haven’t seen anything, yet.” Anne hissed, turning on her heel and storming out of the room.

“I’m really hoping we get sorted into different houses.” Drew let out a low whistle.

“I hope I get sorted out of that school and somewhere far away from whatever that is.” James muttered under his breath.

“Appa, you make no sense when you get angry.” Harry said. “I know, before you say it, English is stupid, you don’t have to remind me.”

“You’re stuck with all of us, Appa. You’re a teacher.” Matt reminded him gently.

“God, I can’t even fail her, ‘cause she’s my kid.” James scrubbed a hand across his face. “Can I quit? Is it too late to quit? Remus, can you take Defense for the year? Or every year after this?”

“No.” Remus said. “I’ve seen enough secondhand to know I should not ever teach Defense.”

“I mean, Dumbledore’s already looking for a replacement for Snape.” Harry shrugged. “If you were going to quit at any time, now would be a good one.”

“If you quit, can I stay home?” Matt asked, his head finally appearing over the back of the couch.

“We can all stay home.” James confirmed. “You, me and Amma. The rest of you have school.”

“What about me?” Drew whined. “I want to be wherever Anju isn’t.”

“He’s our baby.” James said. “We get to keep him all small and adorable and ours, right? I feel like that’s in the rules.”

“What, are the rest of us just not cute anymore?” Harry teased.

“Absolutely not.” James said, too quickly to have been planned. “You’re too tall, Adi’s too good at Quidditch, and the girls are… well, we’ve all seen them.”

“I am pretty good at Quidditch.” Drew said mournfully.

“That’s my boy.” James said proudly. “Carry on the legacy.”

“I play Quidditch!” Harry interjected.

“Do you play it _well_?” James asked.

“Debatable.” Matt mumbled, folding his arms across the top of the couch and resting his head on them.

“You did get kicked off the team last year.” Drew pointed out.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Harry said. “I just upheld the truth and stuff and that’s apparently horrible now.”

“Happy 1996.” Matt said.

“Maybe next year will be better.” James said hopefully.

“Hate to ruin your dreams, but there’s not much of a chance.” Harry sighed. “Ron said it won’t be. Privately, I’m holding out for a spontaneous combustion.”

“Death would be merciful.” Matt agreed tonelessly.

“Not me.” Harry frowned, noticing the way his father’s expression had darkened. “Voldemort. And let’s just… table the whole death thing.”

“Yes.” Remus agreed, though his voice lacked the enthusiasm from their previous interactions. “Let’s.”

Matt slowly sank out of sight.

“Alright. Anju’s a little right.” Drew winced. “We’re kind of insane.”

* * *

“Your girlfriend sent a letter.” Nang Sang-chul said, tossing a thick sheaf of parchment at his son. “The poor owl is tired. I think we should feed it. What do owls eat, Shin-ji?”

“Children.” Shin-ji said, barely glancing up from her book.

“You’re so smart.” Sang-chul smiled proudly. “That’s my daughter.”

“I love you too, Appa.” She replied.

“Sarah isn’t my girlfriend.” Kyung told his father as he picked up the letter.

“She is a girl. She is your friend.” Sang-chul frowned.

“It’s semantics, Appa.” Kyung told him gently.

“Your father wouldn’t understand semantics if they bit him in the behind, dear.” Nang Nari said as she entered the room.

“I would.” Sang-chul protested. “I know what semantics are.”

“What are they, Appa?” Shin-ji looked up, dark eyebrows disappearing beneath her bangs.

“I do not know what semantics are.” He admitted. “I was hoping I would have more time to guess.”

“How is it that you run one of the largest international businesses in the world?” Nari sighed, patting her husband’s shoulder as she passed by.

“Reserving my attention for business deals.” He grinned. “And not worrying much over what semantics are.”

“Luckily, business contracts are much more straightforward.” Shin-ji hummed.

“No, it’s just that Appa has people to read them over for him.” Kyung shrugged.

“Both of you, stop harassing your father.” Nari told them, seemingly aware that such behavior would continue until both children had left for Hogwarts.

“Fathers are supposed to command respect.” Sang-chul sighed. “You could at least try on that count.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Nari sighed.

“Eomma is the only one who gets things done.” Shin-ji agreed, setting her book down.

“I have too much free time.” She hummed. “Kyung, read the poor girl’s letter. It’s rude to leave people waiting.”

“Yes, Eomma.” He agreed easily.

 

> _Dear Kyung,_
> 
> _This week has not been very different from any other. Amma is still convinced that I’m dead, despite all assurances otherwise, and sends at least one of my siblings to check in on me every other hour. It’s as if she’s forgotten that I do come down for mealtimes (though, in her defense, I don’t stay long)._
> 
> _The siblings are well. Except Anjali. I am hoping Shin-ji is as ready to fight as you claim she is, because for my sake (and, to a lesser extent, Adithya’s), she needs to be destroyed. I don’t remember being nearly this obnoxious at twelve and a half, and that was with far more reasons to be obnoxious than she has. I don’t blame her though-- I would be upset about going to Hogwarts as well, if I were her._
> 
> _I hope your holidays are going well. Say hello to your parents for me. Mine have said to ask if we’d all like to go to Diagon Alley together. My best guess is that they’re hoping Shin-ji and Anjali make friends immediately and it breaks whatever curse is on her. That would be a good present for us all, I think, but might get dangerous later on._
> 
> _Please do write back-- you can only read books so many times, and I’m starting to lack entertainment._
> 
> _Your friend,_  
>  _Sarah Potter_

“Everything is about the same.” He said to Nari. “She says hello, and wants to know if we’d like to accompany them to Diagon Alley when we get our school supplies.”

“Of course. We’ll be leaving soon, to settle back into England before the school year begins.” Nari said decisively. “Write her back and inform her of that. We’ll need a date and a meeting place.”

“Yes, Eomma.” Kyung chuckled.

Shin-ji eyed her brother suspiciously. “You had better not attempt to make me be friends with anyone, Kyung.”

“Honestly, I’d rather you avoided all of Sarah’s siblings.” He winced. “They’re all a bit… odd.”

“Don’t be rude.” Nari scolded him automatically.

“Sorry, Eomma.”

“I’m sure they’re just being children.” Sang-chul said. “I was intolerable at that age.”

“You say that as though you aren’t intolerable now.” Nari said, sitting beside him.

“But I’m not intolerable now.” Sang-chul said slowly, confused.

“She says her youngest brother talks to paintings for fun.” He offered. “And that it’s about as sociable as he gets.”

“The paintings the British have are rather exciting.” Sang-chul mused. “Sounds like an apt source of fun for a youngster like him.”

“No one uses words like that anymore, Appa.” Shin-ji told him, not unkindly. “Besides, it would be more productive for him to talk to actual human beings.”

“I have run my businesses just fine using words like those.” Sang-chul shrugged. “I see no reason to stop now.”

“Alright, Appa.” Shin-ji sighed. Her mother was right. There was no use trying to change her father.

“The best way to ensure you have true friends is to make ones that you enjoy being around.” Sang-chul said. “And if the painting brother is someone you enjoy being around, make friends with him. It’s simple.”

“Do you have any friends, Appa?” Shin-ji asked.

“No.” Sang-chul said. “Your mother claims I cannot count her as a friend because we are married.”

“I wouldn’t willingly associate with you.” Nari told him seriously. “I’m required to, because we’re married.”

“Aren’t requirements fun?” Sang-chul smiled.

“No.”

* * *

“James.” Lily’s words were muffled against the worn quilt atop their bed. “We have to pack emergency bags for the kids.”

“Were you able to get the Muggle documentation for the kids ready? Or should I go get that taken care of tomorrow?” James asked, while rifling through the contents of an old, worn suitcase he’d placed in the corner of their room.

Within it were surprisingly few things-- the end of an old red and green sari hung halfway over the rim of the suitcase, the small pile of cassettes that had been wrapped in it now visible. A Gryffindor scarf with a tarnished Prefect badge pinned to it, the edges frayed and colors dulled from years of use, lay neatly folded on top of a pile of photo albums.

When faced with the threat of leaving the home he’d grown up in, her husband had not taken a single thing of his own. No, he’d collected memories. His father’s prefect badge, his mother’s favorite sari, whole photo albums devoted to chronicling every moment of their children’s lives. It was for this sentimental streak, this deeply rooted care for everyone who came his way, that she had fallen in love with him. And even now, it persisted, coloring his every action.

A square package, wrapped in brown paper, lay beside the albums, untouched. Lily knew its shape well, could almost feel it, cold and heavy, in her hands. She had wrested the package’s contents from James’ hands to yell at its owner on slow, lonely nights in hiding more than enough times.

It was only fitting that, wherever they went, Sirius, in some small way, would come with them.

“It’s in the box beneath the floorboards under our bed.” She told him. “Did you arrange to have portkeys put in place?”

Lily had always been more practical than her husband, when she wasn’t in a fit of anger. Her bag was stuffed to the brim with possibilities. Clothes for warm climates as well as cold, family heirlooms lacking emotional significance to sell off if they needed money. A bundle of cloth gave way to a muggle toolkit, neatly packed atop a portable stove and a case of basic potion ingredients. Solutions, both magical and muggle, were hard to come by these days. It was better to be over-prepared than caught off guard.

“All done.” James stood up, brushing his hands off on his shirt. “We’ve got one in here, two downstairs, and one in each of the kids’ rooms. Charu let me in last night.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Should we get someone to talk to her? She seems fine, seemed almost happy to see me, but I’m not so sure she’s ready for school.” He frowned. “I don’t think she should be away from us just yet.”

“I don’t know. Sarah’s barely said two words to me all summer.” Lily finally sat up straight, rubbing at her face. “It’s like she’s scared of me.”

“She was just fine with me, and she’s got more reason to be mad at me than you.” James shrugged. “I’ll ask, if you’d like that.”

“I don’t want her to feel like we’re backing her into a corner.” She sighed.

“She’s done that herself.” James said. “‘Cause she’s in her room. Rooms have corners. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“When was the last time you slept, dear?” Lily propped herself up on her elbows, green eyes seeking out her husband’s in the dim light.

“Yesterday? Day before?” James shrugged. There were dark circles under his eyes, and every movement he made was sluggish. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Try and get some tonight, okay?” She said gently. “I’ll stay up and make sure the kids are alright.”

“No, no, I can do it.” James said, shaking his head forcefully. The movement seemed to knock him off balance, as he stared ahead blankly for a few seconds afterward. “I can. I promise.”

“James.” Lily frowned. “You need to sleep. This isn’t healthy.”

“Nothing about this situation is healthy.” James snapped, rubbing his eyes again. “Just let me handle it. Alright?”

“What, the way Charu is handling it?” Lily said. “James, I’m your wife. Let me help you or I swear to God I will end up pushing you out a window one of these days.”

“She did not get that from me.” James argued. “Come on. I talk to you. I haven’t locked myself up anywhere.”

“We share a room.” Lily said flatly. “You literally can’t lock yourself in here.”

“That’s true.” James nodded. “There’s no lock on the door. I wasn’t considering it anyway.” He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Lily. Everyone’s said everything there is to say on the subject. He’s dead. It’s sad. We should move on. What else is there?”

“Sleeping. Eating on a regular basis. Not pretending to be okay, because you think that’s what everyone else needs?” Lily suggested.

“I’m doing those things.” He protested. “I’m doing all of those things. Except the sleeping. I’m not really doing that one. But I’m doing the other things.”

“You are doing absolutely none of those things, James.” She pulled her hand back in order to cross her arms. “I’m not above blackmail.”

“I ate today.” James complained. “And yesterday. And the day before that. That’s a lot of days. Maybe I forget some here and there, but that’s nothing.”

“You’re avoiding the subject.” She said.

“No, I’m not.” He said. “Lily. Look. We’ve lost more than one friend. By now, we know how this works.”

“You think I don’t know that?” She whispered. “We have kids now. We can’t just self destruct and wait for the pieces to fit themselves back together.”

“You know it better than I do.” James admitted. “I’ll figure it out. I promise. It’s just… a lot to adjust to.”

Lily stared down at the table, briefly remembering the friends she had lost in the first war. “I know. I know that, but… James, you’re pretending to be okay. One day pretending isn’t going to be good enough.”

“Sometimes pretending is all we have, isn’t it?” James mused. “We go out there and we make sure those kids go to bed every night thinking everything’s going to be fine and the world’s a decent place. That’s all we can really do right now.” He took a deep breath, obviously trying to settle himself. “I can almost-- I can almost feel it again, you know? And god knows, this time, Hari does too. He’s such a little boy, Lily.” James’ voice broke, and he took another shuddering breath. “I look at him and wonder when he got so big sometimes, but he’s-- he’s even younger than we were, when it all really started.”

“We were all children once, James.” Lily’s voice was quiet as she sat up. “But war doesn’t take our ages into account when it comes knocking. Hari is in the middle of this mess, one way or another. Trying to protect him might just get him killed. It might get us all killed.”

“Yeah. One of many things I’d rather not think about.” James sighed. “We’re doing our best by him at least. The Order meetings should help, even if the Weasleys are judging us for letting him in. It’s not like he isn’t telling everything he knows to Ron and Hermione the minute he leaves.”

“They might as well let them in. God knows they’re going to run off into the thick of things with or without the information.” Lily raked a hand through her hair.

“All this legal, not legal nonsense.” James scoffed. “It’s not like we weren’t pulling together information on our own, at that age. It’s easier to just give it to them and make sure what they’re hearing is correct. Not surprised that the Weasleys are convinced that ignorance is the way to go, though. Easier to think that way when your kid’s pretty much got a get out of jail free card.”

“It’s less the Weasleys and more Molly.” Lily grimaced. “I honestly think that she thinks she’s doing what’s best, but in the end it’s just putting everyone else in danger. Being prepared is half the battle.”

“Not telling kids anything is why we lost so many in the First War. I’m not letting it happen again.” James said sharply. “If we’d known more, then we could have saved so many! Benjy, Marlene, Dorcas, they could all still be here, if we’d just known a little more. You’re right. Being prepared is the tough part. Executing what you know? Easy.”

“War tactics, strategy… That’s the part that matters. There’s no point in winning the battle if you’re going to lose the war.” Lily tipped backwards onto the bed, huffing out a sigh. “Though I’d rather we didn’t have to fight a war at all.”

“Wouldn’t we all.” James sighed.

“Alright. Get in bed. I’ll go check on the kids.” Lily swung her legs over the side of the bed, climbing to her feet.

“What?” James frowned. “No, I’ll do it.”

“No, you won’t. Either you get in this bed or I will tie you to it.” Lily turned on him. “Those are your only choices, James.”

“Let’s wait on that second option until the kids are off to school.” James said with a wink. “Don’t want them walking in on something they’d rather not see. Especially now that they’re old enough to understand.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” She smirked, turning to leave the room.

“If you’re planning to get me to sleep, that’s the way to do it.” James said, falling back onto the bed with a thump. “God, we’re going to be _empty nesters_.”


	2. It's Time For T-T-Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love racism.” Lily said sarcastically. 
> 
> “Me too.” James agreed. “It’s surprisingly pervasive, and, unfortunately, you can’t just throw money at it like you can with potential genocide.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week, we bring you more of the Potter Family Comedy Crew, the best reality deniers who aren't in public office. The littlest kiddos get their wands (check out the symbolism on 'em, if you've got time) and we check back in on the older ones as everyone gears up for the dramatic change that beginning of the school year will bring! 
> 
> Stay tuned for next week, when we return to Hogwarts one more time, and get met with several surprises.
> 
> -S&L
> 
> PS: If you have any guesses about where the triplets will be sorted, post them in the comments of the chapter! We're excited to hear what you think! :)

Harry trudged into the kitchen, yawning, and stopped in his tracks at the sound of tears.

Matt was seated at the table instead of under it, for once, clutching a piece of parchment in his hands. His brown eyes were shiny with tears, though he seemed to be trying to hold them back. When he saw Harry, he reached up to swipe at his cheeks with the sleeve of his red sweater. Harry recognized it as one he’d worn, at Matt’s age, though the color had faded significantly and it was sporting a few holes he couldn’t remember causing. “Sorry.”

“Madhu, hey.” Harry said, slowly approaching his youngest brother. It was best to be cautious, when Matt was upset. “What’s up, little guy?”

He sniffled, holding out the letter in one hand. A large wax seal was stamped on the front of the envelope, and Harry realized that it was Matt’s Hogwarts letter.

“This came in the mail today.” Matt mumbled.

“Oh, no.” Harry pulled out the chair beside Matt, gently taking the letter from him as he sat down. “Well, that’s something, right? Congrats.”

“I don’t want to go.” Matt told him plainly, still trying to hide his face behind his hands. “I want to stay home.”

“Good call.” Harry sighed. “I’d rather not go back either, and we all know Charu doesn’t.”

“Charu said she’d rather shove Anju out a window than go back to Hogwarts.” Matt mumbled in agreement.

“When?” Harry frowned. “Charu hasn’t spoken to anyone all day.”

“Last night. When we got up to eat celery together.” Matt looked up at Harry. “We do that sometimes. Not always celery, but…”

“She talks to you?” Harry’s eyes went wide. “Really? But Amma says she doesn’t talk to any of us.”

“She talks to me.” Matt said, frowning.

“Huh.” Harry said. “That’s something.”

“It’s… words.” Matt seemed confused. “You know. Like a conversation.”

“We’ve got to go though, Madhu.” Harry stared at the letter in his hands. “I know you don’t want to, and I know Amma and Appa are hesitant about it, but we have to. It’s safer there, or at least it’s supposed to be, and if anything happens during the year… you’ll be safer there than you are at home.”

“Appa has all those wards up, though.” Matt protested. “And Hogwarts isn’t very safe at all! You keep almost… dying…”

“I mean, half of those are wards every Pureblood family uses, and they know those too. After that, it’s only a matter of time before they dismantle the rest. It’s not going to be safe at home for long.” Harry shrugged. “And the almost dying is more my fault than anyone else’s. Everyone else at Hogwarts is fine, so if we do all that fancy math stuff that Charu likes, it’s actually pretty safe.”

Matt stared up at him, tears still leaking from the corners of his eyes. Perhaps if he were Drew, or Anne, he would continue to argue. Perhaps he would mention exactly how safe Sarah’s first year at Hogwarts had been. Instead, he just held out another piece of parchment.

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“Probably your OWL results.” Matt murmured. “It came with the Hogwarts letters.”

“Ah, never mind that, let’s see what I’ve got to read this year.” Harry said, snatching his letter out of Matt’s hands.

“There’s something inside of it.” Matt said, looking surprised by the sudden movement. “I didn’t want to open it in case it was dangerous.”

“Well, if there’s a mail bomb, at least I’ll take it.” Matt looked horrified. “Listen. I’m great at magic. Shouldn’t be a problem. I’m your brave older brother, right?”

Matt smiled hesitantly as Harry tore into the letter. A glint of gold shone within the envelope and Harry frowned, reaching in to retrieve it. You didn’t receive badges for just anything, at Hogwarts, and Harry certainly hadn’t done anything of merit. Most badges went to prefects, and Harry certainly wasn’t getting recognized for his devotion to staying out of trouble. So, really, there was only one option.

“So.” Harry said casually, retrieving the badge and pinning it to his t-shirt. It was one of his father’s that he’d stolen, a phoenix emblazoned in bright colors on a black background. James hardly ever wore it anymore, and Harry thought it made him look rather dashing. “Turns out Appa won’t be the only Quidditch captain in the family.”

Matt’s eyes were wide as he stared at the badge. “Appa and Adi are gonna be so excited!” He gasped.

“At least this means I’ll get to play this year.” Harry laughed. “Can’t kick me off the team if I’m captain.”

“I’m excited too.” Matt decided after a moment. “Congratulations, Hari.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Harry ruffled Matt’s hair. “My number one fan.”

Matt reached out for the other letter again, holding it up. “If you made Quidditch Captain, I bet you did well on your OWL results, too.” He said.

“Nope. Murder it.” Harry said quickly. “Eat it. Right now. If you love me, you’ll eat that piece of paper before Amma hears us.”

“What was that, Hari?” Lily stepped into the room, tying her hair back into a loose ponytail. “Oh? Did you get mail?”

“Nope!” Harry yelled, just a hair too quickly. “No mail for me! Who’d be talking to me anyhow? No one! Madhu got his Hogwarts letter and now he’s crying!”

Lily seemed unimpressed. “Oh, so it’s for me, then?” She reached out, plucking it from her son’s hands before he could protest.

“You’re right.” Harry groaned, slamming his face into the table. “Death would be merciful.”

There was the rustle of parchment as Lily opened the envelope. “You got eight OWLs, Hari.”

“I’m a genius!” Harry crowed happily, forgetting his previous hesitance. “I’m a genius!”

“I got ten, when I was your age.” Lily told him, though she looked more amused than chastising.

“I don’t care!” Harry yelled. “I got eight out of nine and that’s all that matters! Oh, wait, which one did I fail?”

“Divination.”

“Yes!” Harry pumped his fist in the air. “I don’t have to take it anymore. Not that I would’ve if I’d passed.”

“That means you passed potions.” Madhu pointed out.

“Oh. Shit.” Harry grimaced, realizing his mother was in the room. “I mean. Shoot. I’m a good boy. I promise. Don’t yell at me.”

“That means you have to deal with Slughorn.” Lily winced. “Don’t envy you that one, sweetheart. He’s a real character.”

“Slughorn?” Harry frowned.

“He was the potions professor when your father and I were at Hogwarts. He’s… Well.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Let’s just say he likes to play favorites. I used to be part of the Slug Club.”

“The…. what club, Amma?” Harry asked, not sure that he’d heard her right. The Slug Club? No one would actually name a club that, especially if it wasn’t about slugs.

“Slug Club. It was a group of his best potions students, and some people who were from influential families. He wanted to ‘help them to greatness’.” She laughed. “And then proceed to mooch off of their gratitude for the rest of their lives.”

“Help them to greatness, huh?” Harry grimaced. “That means he’s one of those embrace your potential and be your best types, huh?”

“Yup.” Lily snorted, putting the letter back on the table. “Now it’s your turn to deal with him.”

“I’m gonna have to do _homework_ this year.” Harry said, looking nauseous. “Great.”

* * *

 

“Listen, Charu, what does this boy look like?” James said, glancing around Diagon Alley. Sarah, who had practically glued herself to his side, shrugged. “Oh, that doesn’t help anything.”

“You’re his teacher, Appa. You’ve taught him for a whole year.” Harry pointed out. “Shouldn’t you know?”

“I also had to teach you for a year.” James countered. “And I really wish I didn’t know what you looked like.”

“Is it because I look like you?” Harry smiled innocently. “I regret that a little too.”

“Harry James Potter.” Lily hid a laugh behind her hand. “Your father is very handsome and you know it.”

“Unfortunate, but true.” Harry nodded. “I’ll give him that.”

“Thank you.” James said. “That’s appreciated.”

“Besides, Ma-- Matt and I look like dad.” Drew said, stumbling over Matt’s name for a moment. “And we’re way handsomer than Harry.”

“I think Harry and dad are both very handsome.” Matt protested quietly.

“I’m the handsomest, actually.” James interjected. “Because none of you would be born if I weren’t good looking, so top marks go to me.”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I had something to do with the process, too.” Lily quipped.

“Yeah, Anne is proof of that.” Drew said, nudging his sister with his elbow. She didn’t respond, but rather shot him an acidic glare that had him retracting his arm immediately.

“Of course you had something to do with the process.” James said. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Dad!” Anne scrunched up her face in disgust while Lily laughed.

“Not in front of the children, dear.” She said.

“Fine, fine.” James sighed. “There’s always tonight.”

“DAD!” Harry yelped, horrified.

James’ laughter was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. The Potters turned to find a family of four standing a few feet away. Kyung waved sheepishly at Sarah from behind his parents.

“Oh, and there’s Kyung’s family.” James said. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” Nari Nang was a tall woman who wore her age well. She was dressed in simple clothing more suited to a muggle than a wizard, and stood beside her daughter. Shin-ji eyed them cautiously, but not unkindly.

“Sarah, Professor Potter, this is my family.” Kyung said. “My mother, Nang Nari, my father, Nang Sang-chul, and my sister, Shin-ji.”

Sang-chul stiffly stuck out his hand to shake, as if he was following instructions. James shook it solemnly, in an unexpected display of maturity.

“I’ve heard much about your family.” Sang-chul said hesitantly.

“Good things?” James asked.

“Many.” Sang-chul said firmly.

“You don’t have to lie, you know.” James smiled.

“Many good things.” Sang-chul repeated.

“Alright, sure.” James shrugged. “That’s what we’re calling it.”

“Hello, Sarah.” Kyung said, skirting around Shin-ji’s tiny form to greet his friend.

“Hello.” Sarah said, finally leaving her father’s side. “So that’s the infamous Shin-ji.”

Shin-ji eyed Sarah coolly before turning to her brother, copying her demeanor. “So that’s the infamous Sarah.” She said.

“Infamous.” Sarah said, glancing at Kyung. “That’s interesting.”

“If she meant it, she’d say it in Korean.” He deadpanned.

“Not if I was trying to embarrass you.” Shin-ji pointed out.

“Good to know.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed.

Shin-ji raised an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by Sarah.

“Hi!” Drew, completely ignoring the not-conversation taking place, stepped forward and thrusting his hand towards Shin-ji. “I’m Drew! We’re gonna be in the same year.”

She accepted the handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh! Yeah, same to you.”

“That is the most polite I’ve seen him be in his whole life.” James said, slightly shocked. “Miracles do happen to bad people.”

“They do.” Sang-chul nodded. “It’s a matter of chance.”

“Statistically speaking, he’s right.” Lily shrugged.

“A miracle.” Nari said blandly.

“I mean, he’s an eleven year old boy.” James shrugged. “No matter how many manners you try to put into their heads, it all seems to leak right out their ears.”

“You can only do so much for them.” Nari agreed. “Now, then, we arrived rather early and have already purchased the necessary books. Would you mind purchasing wands, first?”

“Sure thing.” Lily agreed. “We owl-ordered the extra two sets of books, so we’re set there as well.”

“Onward, I guess.” James declared. “Come on, kids. Whoever breaks the least amount of things at Ollivander’s gets ice cream.”

“Bribery?” Sang-chul asked curiously.

“They listen more when you bribe them.” James nodded solemnly. “Also the only one that won’t break anything is Matt, and he’s got good teeth, so it’ll be fine.”

Nari said nothing, but looked down at Kyung, who shrugged.

“Thanks, Dad.” Matt mumbled.

“No problem, kiddo.” James ruffled his hair. “Let’s go not break some stuff.”

They entered Ollivanders’ in a large pack, the adults acutely aware of how many children were with them as four-fifths of the Potter kids immediately began scuffling, stepping on each other’s feet and elbowing each other in the ribs. Matt, eternally the best behaved child, stood quietly beside James and craned his head back to stare at the high shelves of wand boxes.

“Ah, yes”, an old, shaky voice rang forth from the back of the shop. Ollivander emerged from the darkness, looking rather frail. It was to be expected, Harry thought, since he looked about fifteen years older than when Harry had seen him last year. “I was wondering when I would see the Potters again.”

“That’s one good thing.” James chuckled. “We don’t make you wait long, do we?”

“Of course, now we’ve got three kids for you to help, instead of the usual one.” Lily chuckled.

“Plus one more from us.” Nari nodded politely to Ollivander.

“Excellent, excellent.” Ollivander surveyed the room, smiling pleasantly as he noticed Sarah and Kyung. “Ah, yes, Miss Potter. Acacia and dragon heartstring. Nine and a quarter inches. It serves you well, I hope.”

Sarah nodded seriously. “It does what I need it to do.”

“And Mister Nang. Laurel and unicorn hair. Ten inches.” Ollivander said.

“Yes, sir.” Kyung said with a nod.

Ollivander noticed Harry, his smile widening. “Ah, Mr. Potter. Holly and phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Still intact?”

“Somehow.” Harry laughed. “I think it might be magic.”

Drew snorted loudly while Nari turned to Harry with a curious expression. “Phoenix feather?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded. “I don’t know anyone else worth knowing with a phoenix feather core.”

“Don’t be arrogant.” Nari said.

“No, he…” Lily ran a hand through her hair, her eyes sliding up towards the ceiling with a sigh. “James.”

“He’s referring to the mass murderer who’s been trying to kill us for the last sixteen years.” James said, sounding unnecessarily cheerful. “We’ve all come to terms with it. It’s been a very hard summer.”

“I see.” She said mildly. “That’s incredibly specific.”

“And unfortunately true.” James replied, smiling pleasantly.

“We should probably buy the wands now, before more customers come along.” Lily suggested. “Beginning of the year boom and all.”

“Which of you would like to go first?” Ollivander asked.

“I will.” Shin-ji said, stepping up to the counter.

“Very well.” Ollivander said. “Which is your wand arm?” He was already moving busily about the room, retrieving thin, long boxes and setting them down on the counter in four distinct piles.

“My left.” She answered readily. She surveyed the piles, dark eyes seriously before seemingly picking one at random. She pulled the box towards herself, having to stand on her toes in order to reach across the counter for it.

“Not that one.” Ollivander said. “That’s for the young man over there.” He pointed to Matt, who blushed and ducked his head. “Try one from the second pile.”

“Yes, sir.” She said, sliding the box back and choosing a new box. She slid it open and pulled out a rather plain wand with a simple spiral near the base.

“Ah, an interesting combination. Fir and dragon heartstring.” Ollivander nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, fitting. Give it a wave.”

She twirled the wand in a figure-eight pattern, and the wand suddenly ejected a gentle trail of blue flower petals. Drew let out a quiet noise of awe.

“This one.” She decided after a moment, reaching out to catch a handful of petals.

“You don’t want to try another one?” Ollivander asked curiously. “Just in case?”

“No. This one is perfect.” She told him firmly. “I don’t need to try any more.”

“Then we’ll move on.” Ollivander said. “The taller of the two boys. What’s your name?”

“Matthew.” He replied quietly.

“The other one first, then.” Ollivander said. “Which is your wand arm?”

“Both of them!” Drew remarked happily.

Lily winced slightly, putting a hand on Matt’s shoulder and pulling him back a step, as though fearing the outcome of Drew’s test.

“Yours is the third pile from the left.” Ollivander said, looking Drew over. “One wave is all you need.”

“Okey dokey.” Drew stepped forward, picking up the wand closest to him. He gave it a wave, and suddenly a shelf full of boxes went flying to the floor. Anne snickered, and Shin-ji took a step back to avoid being hit.

“Definitely not the one.” Ollivander grimaced, obviously thinking about the hours of cleaning that lay before him, even with magic. “Try another.”

Drew smiled sheepishly, picking up the next wand. This one set the counter on fire.

Five wands later, Drew pulled a thin, delicate-looking wand with spiraling inscriptions up one side from the box.

“English oak and dragon heartstring.” Ollivander said, rather nervously. It was understandable, given how much damage had occurred since Drew had started testing wands. “Thirteen inches. A fine choice.”

Drew gave it a hesitant wave, producing a short burst of wind that smelled faintly of the ocean. It swept through the room, rustling clothes and hair and leaving everyone feeling rather refreshed.

“And how does that feel?” Ollivander asked, smiling contentedly.

“Good. Great!” Drew said, a smile lighting up his face.

“We’ll have the young lady go next. Sarah, was it?” Ollivander asked.

“No.” Sarah said nervously, glancing over at Anne. “That’s me.”

“I’m Anne.” She responded scathingly. “We don’t even look alike.”

“Forgive me, it was an honest mistake.” Ollivander said. “I’ve heard all your names many times, but seen you only twice.”

“Maybe you’re just getting old.” She snapped.

“Anne. Apologize immediately.” Lily demanded. The two of them glared at each other for a long, tense moment, before Anne slowly turned to Ollivander.

“I’m sorry.” She said insincerely. “Let’s get this over with.”

“The first pile, if you may.” Ollivander, a man of legendary patience, looked rather frazzled. “One wave should do it.”

Anne went through fewer wands than Drew had, before finally pulling out a rather pretty wand. It had dark flowers etched into the handle, slowly winding up the shaft. The base of the wand was wider than the tip, and had been carved to resemble the petals of a lotus flower.

Anne looked at it carefully for a moment before giving it a wave. Suddenly, a bright pink cupcake appeared on the thankfully only slightly scorched counter before Ollivander.

“Interesting.” Ollivander frowned. “Would you like to try another?”

Anne stared down at the wand for another moment, fingering one of the flower markings. “No, this one is fine.”

“Hawthorn and veela hair. Ten inches.” Ollivander said. “Interesting.”

“Veela hair.” Sarah snorted. “Figures.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anne turned on her sister with a glare.

“A temperamental core for a temperamental witch.” Sarah said mildly. “Seems only logical.”

Anne stepped towards her sister, but was immediately stopped by Lily’s hand around her upper arm. “Sleep with one eye open.” She hissed at her sister.

“Is she always like this?” Kyung whispered to Sarah. “I know you said she was a handful, but this seems rather intense.”

“Always.” Sarah agreed. “Well, not always. Mostly recently. She’s been a right git since her last birthday.”

“Puberty?” Kyung suggested.

“She’s much too young for that.” Sarah shook her head. “She’s just mean.”

“Too mean to be friends with Shin-ji, at least.” He shrugged.

“Come along, Matthew. The last set of wands are yours to try.” Ollivander smiled. “Which is your wand arm?”

Matt stepped forward, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “The right, sir.” He murmured, looking at the boxes.

“Try the wands in your right hand then.” Ollivander said gently. “Wave it once, and try not to aim for anything breakable.”

“Of course, sir.” He said, picking up one of the wands. It wasn’t quite the right fit, but luckily his magic didn’t tend to be nearly as destructive as his siblings. It simply let out a pathetic puff of purple smoke.

“Why don’t you try another?”

Matt nodded, picking up another box. The wand inside was slightly more decorative than what Matt might have selected himself. It was made from a lighter wood, with a deep, silvery stone embedded at the base. A single spine of delicate wood wound up the notched shaft, gently petering out near the top.

He waved the wand, and the room filled with gently winking lights, which floated about like fireflies on a warm summer night.

“Wow.” Matt whispered, turning around with wide eyes.

“Rowan and unicorn. Thirteen inches.” Ollivander said. “That’s quite a wand.”

“It’s… amazing.” He said in awe. “Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.”

“If I could speak to you a moment.” James said to Ollivander, hand grasping an object in his pocket firmly. “It’s rather important.”

“I see, I see.” Ollivander said, motioning for James to join him behind the counter, and James, a steely look on his face, followed Ollivander back into the shelves of wands.

Lily watched her husband go with a mournful expression.

“Is everything alright?” Sang-chul asked.

“There’s been a death in the family.” Sarah said. “My father’s… handling some business.”

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Nari said, placing a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I know how hard that can be.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, glancing over at Lily. “I haven’t been the most helpful to them lately, so I’m not the one you should be consoling.”

“Grief does that to people.” Sang-chul said, uncharacteristically gruff. “You’re a child for a while yet. No need to worry about being helpful.”

“For once, my husband has a point.” Nari said, not unkindly. “Your parents have each other. Be there for them, but do not worry yourself over whether your own mourning is burdening them. They will survive, as will you.”

“Good to know.” Sarah said. “My brother’s always been difficult about survival.”

“Alright, that’s finished.” James said, as he came out from behind the counter. “Madhu, ice cream. Rest of you are grounded.”

“You won’t ground me.” Sarah reminded him. “You love me.”

“Fine. Harry, Anne, Drew, you’re all grounded.” James sighed. “Matt gets ice cream. Sarah gets nothing.”

“You’re a great father.” Drew said sarcastically.

“Why don’t you try to have five kids and see how it goes?” James rolled his eyes.

“Maybe I will.” He said contemplatively.

“God save us all.” Anne mumbled.

* * *

The sun had long since left the sky by the time Lily stepped into the kitchen.

There was a steaming mug of tea ready for her on the table, and her husband was waiting for her, pieces of parchment spread out in front of him. He was staring contemplatively at a stack of papers before him, a piece of rusk hanging out of his mouth. As usual, he’d forgotten a plate, and crumbs were scattered all over his work area as a result.

“Your glasses are going to slide off your nose.” She said, setting her laundry basket down by the doorway before taking a seat.

“I should get them fixed again.” James said, pulling off his glasses to polish them using the hem of his shirt. “I think my eyes have somehow gotten worse.”

“That tends to happen with age.” She agreed mildly. “I’m going to have to buy reading glasses, soon.”

“I thought I’d reached maximum bad.” James sighed. “Evidently not.”

“Maximum bad is when you go completely blind.” Lily winced.

“Oh. See, I didn’t think about that part.” James shook his head. “Yeah, that better not happen. How would I know where you are?”

“How you manage to be romantic after being married for this long is a mystery.” Lily laughed into her mug.

“Letting you go off on your own is a safety risk, love.” James laughed. “But sure, that too.”

“You can always follow the sound of my voice.” She suggested.

“You mean the screaming?” James asked, an innocent look on his face. “I could, I guess. If the ears don’t go bad as well.”

“What’s the difference?” She asked. “You should be used to me screaming by now.”

“Very little.” He grinned, taking another bite out of the rusk. “Right, right, business time. I know you were dealing with the Finch-Fletchleys last week. Any progress, or are they still convinced their money’s going to save them?”

“Money.” Lily snorted derisively. “Didn’t do anything for us, so why would it do anything for them?”

“We just got almost murdered a little more scenically.” James rolled his eyes. “Always the ideal choice. Next time, I’m going for sunlit meadow.”

“Personally, I was hoping for cottage by the seaside.” Lily hummed.

“Oooh, cottage by the seaside could be a good one. The water would be a nice view.” James said. “Still no cooperation then?”

“None.” She groaned, dropping her head to the table. “Hari warned me about their son, but I thought I could talk some sense into them.”

“Kids do end up uncomfortably like their parents sometimes.” James ran a hand through his hair. “Usually, their parents aren’t homicidal maniacs, which is nice.”

“Discounting the Malfoys, I guess.” She mumbled.

“My favorite people.” James snorted. “Can you believe we’re related? Distantly, and only by marriage, but it’s absolutely ridiculous to consider.”

Lily sat up straight again, staring down into her tea. “What’s their angle on this, anyways?”

“Umbridge is close enough to Fudge that it’s obvious she didn’t end up there by accident, and we all know Malfoy’s grubby little hands are all over anything close to Fudge.” He shuddered. “Basically, anything we come up with is going to be blocked at every step. I’ve drawn up a list of affected families, gotten together a group of parents who will speak if it comes to that, but after this last year… There’s no telling how seriously they’ll take something that’s coming from me.”

“It’s ridiculous. These kids have scars, James. There’s no denying what happened to them.” She said, anger coloring her tone. “People are so stubborn sometimes that it defies logic. It’s amazing that they refuse to see what’s right in front of them.”

“We’re not well liked, Lily. And when it comes to things like this, it really does act against us. It would be easy enough to claim that our kids are just acting out for attention and have everyone in that room believe it, after what Dumbledore and the media put us through last year.” James scratched the back of his head. “I’m considering having Arthur Weasley or someone else front the effort, but they’ll know we’re involved. Two of our kids are on that list. There’s no way we couldn’t be. Might as well be upfront about it, if we’re going to lose anyway.”

“I love racism.” Lily said sarcastically.

“Me too.” James agreed. “It’s surprisingly pervasive, and, unfortunately, you can’t just throw money at it like you can with potential genocide.”

“It’s ridiculous. The Bennett family has been giving me the run-around.” She said, shaking her head. “I know they aren’t supporting Voldemort, but they might as well be if they refuse to see logic. I’ve been trying to convince them to have an emergency plan in place, since both parents are muggleborns…”

“Shit. They’ll have to relocate quickly, if both of them are. They tracked us so closely last time, and it was just one of us.” James sighed, spinning his pencil between his fingers. “How old are the kids? Maybe we can convince them to get the kids out, if they won’t cooperate.”

“Eight and six.” Lily put her head in her hands. “Too little for me to talk to on their own, that’s for sure.”

“They’re going to be hunted. Damn.” James shook his head. “If you’ve got any ones that are too tough to crack, send them my way. I can try and pick up a couple families here and there. Don’t know how much help I’d be, but I can try.”

“Probably about as much help as I’d be with Umbridge. They’re about as likely to trust one of us as they are the other.” She sighed.

“What a pair we make, huh?” James chuckled. “Just trying to do some good here, and yet no one wants to trust us. That’s how it’s always been, with us, I guess.”

“I’m not sure how much of your run as Head Boy can be labeled ‘good’, dear.”

“I did good by you.” James winked. “That’s at least one person.”

“I want a divorce.” Lily said, smiling tiredly up at him.

“You’ll get one, but there’s something to finish first.” James leaned back in his chair. “One of us has to talk to Charu, before the school year opens. Seeing as I’m now in trouble, might as well be me.”

“You sure? She’s… she’s not handling this well.” Lily said hesitantly. “Not that any of us are.”

“Yeah. It’s a tough time for all of us.” James nodded. “I’ll talk to her. She’s been pretty clingy with me lately, for a kid who’s decided she’s allergic to sunlight.”

“It isn’t like she’s going to talk to me, anyways.” Lily mumbled. “Should I try and talk to Anju again?”

“I mean, you could try, but I’m not so sure how much it would change.” James shrugged. “I mean, I was a right git at twelve, but this seems a little excessive, even for that.”

“She’s acting like my sister.” Lily winced. “I really hope we don’t have another Petunia on our hands.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” James shuddered. “I don’t want to be the kind of parent that’s ragging on them about only having each other after we’re gone, but it’s true.”

“Hopefully we won’t be gone for long.” Lily murmured.

“Yeah.” James nodded. “Hopefully.”

* * *

 

“Charu?” James whispered, knocking softly on her door. “Kadhava thara, kannamma.” (Open the door, sweetheart.)

The door swung open, a tired looking Sarah rubbing her eyes.

“Ulla varattaan?” James asked, and Sarah nodded, trudging back to her bed. (Shall I come inside?)

“Thungindirunthen.” Sarah pouted, climbing back into her cocoon of sheets. “Enna Appa?” (I was sleeping. What’s going on, Dad?)

“Ammavum naanum pesindirundhom, kannu.” James said, stroking Sarah’s hair. He pulled the chair at her desk over to the bed, so he could sit. “Ettaavatha ingeye padichudalaam.” (Your mother and I were talking, love. Let’s just study eighth here.)

“Pogalenna Madhu thaniyaa iruppan.” Sarah mumbled, scooting closer to the end of the bed so she could lay her head on her father’s chest. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her. (If I don’t go, Madhu will be alone.)

“Nee enga ponaalum, avan pinnaadiye iruppan.” James chuckled. (Wherever you go, he’ll be right behind you.)

“Appo ennodaye irukkatum.” Sarah shrugged sleepily. “Avanukku dhaan pogaren.” (Then let him stay with me. I’m going just for him.)

“Enna, padikka vendama inime?” James teased. “Ellathiyum therinjupocha?” (What, do you not need to study anymore? Do you know everything now?)

Sarah nodded, eyes falling shut.

“Onnodaye iruppen. Okay?” James asked, craning his neck to kiss the top of his head. He felt her shift against him, sniffling softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” (I’ll be right there with you.)


	3. Time Waits For No One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James sniffled audibly. “Wow.”
> 
> “Something wrong, Professor?” Hermione asked curiously.
> 
> “Nothing at all.” James said, reaching for Lily. He pulled her into his side, exhaling forcefully. “Everything is much better than it could be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the moment we've been waiting for is finally here! 
> 
> All the Potter children have been sorted! The next chapter will pick up in the immediate aftermath of the Sorting, so get pumped for another emotional roller coaster ride next week.
> 
> Those of you who guessed got it... read the chapter and see! :) Lai's explanations will go up at the end of the chapter (on AO3) and as a post in the Rewrite Potter tag (on tumblr), so stay tuned for those!
> 
> As always, be safe this week and enjoy the chapter. Comment below to let us know what you think!
> 
> -S&L

“Alright, kids.” James said solemnly, pacing back and forth before the fireplace. “This is a big year for our family. We are all taking on new responsibilities, and entering a new chapter in our lives and as people. Amma and I are very proud of all of you, and will hopefully continue to be proud of you, but that comes with some conditions.”

“What conditions?” Harry, who was utterly disinterested, asked.

“One.” James said, holding up a finger. “Do not start fights with anyone. Even if they deserve it. You call me, I will call their parents, and we will take the fight to the judicial system, where it belongs.”

“James, stop threatening legal action.” Lily chastised him mildly.

“Just don’t fight anybody. If they say anything mean about your mother or our family, tell a teacher.” James advised. “Any teacher, because Severus Snape will not be returning to ruin our lives this year! Avoid Slughorn, though, he doesn’t like me.”

“Why doesn’t he like you?” Drew asked curiously.

“For some reason, he’s gotten it into his head that your father isn’t good enough for me.” Lily said with a shrug.

“Sounds like a stellar guy.” Harry muttered.

“Why do the Potions professors never like you?” Drew asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“Because I’m not as good at Potions as your grandmother hoped I would be.” James said, smile fading. “I’m a solid E level Potioneer! I’m not that bad!”

“I’m not.” Sarah said gloomily.

“That’s your grandfather’s genes. No idea how he became an Auror.” James laughed, forgetting his previous disappointment. “Right-o, just study well and nothing should come up. Which brings me to point number two!” He held up a second finger. “Actually do your work! That means all of you. Including any Quidditch Captains, who will not be excused from their work for anything!”

“Even for games?” Harry asked.

“No.” James shook his head.

“For the Quidditch Cup?” Harry tried again.

“No.” James frowned in confusion, looking over at Lily, who shrugged.

“Even if Gryffindor’s been winning repeatedly and we’re in danger of breaking our streak?” Harry asked, hoping the third time was the charm.

“I had to do my work no matter what the scores or standings were, and so will you.” James said. “It’s not even hard, just get it done.”

“Oooh, thanks, that means so much to me.” Harry grumbled. “Mister James Potter, who knows everything, saying school is easy.”

“Will you shut up?” Anne snapped at her brother. “No one cares about Quidditch. Just listen to Appa.”

“Why are you being such a little--”

“POINT NUMBER THREE.” James yelled, over his arguing children. “Stick together! Be friends! Hogwarts can be very isolating! Especially if you’re in different houses!”

Matt looked rather shocked at his father’s words, as though he hadn’t considered the possibility that he would be separated from any of his siblings.

“Your father is right. We’re a family, and families stick together.” Lily said, looking at each of her children in turn. “We can’t always be there for you while you’re at school. We’re counting on you guys to watch out for each other.”

“Both of you older kids are responsible for the little ones.” James said, averting his eyes. He chewed on his lower lip, hands drifting to his hips. “Although even the little ones aren’t too little anymore.”

Anne let out a quiet groan. “Is he gonna start crying?” She whispered.

“You’re all growing up, and that means you need to lean more on each other than you do on us.” James said, after a few seconds of silence. “And that’s a natural progression of things. It’s just about being responsible and grown up and doing your bests at everything you try. Hold each other to the same standards that Amma and I hold you to.”

Matt looked quite close to tears, but he tended to look like that most of the time. “I love you a lot, Appa.” He said seriously.

“Love you too, Madhu. Alright, basic gist, nobody blow up the train, the school or your friends. Enjoy yourselves within reason. Do well in school. Stay together.” James said, before motioning over his shoulder to the fireplace. “Alright, shall we get going?”

“Please.” Anne grumbled.

“Remember the buddy system. Madhu and Charu, stick together. Adi, stick with Hari. Anju, you’re with your mother.” James said. “What you do when you’re on the train is none of my business, but at least until then, pretend to like each other.”

“Why am I the only one that gets stuck with a parent?” Anne asked testily.

“Because you’ve been nothing but rude and divisive for the past six months.” Sarah muttered, just loudly enough for Anne to hear.

“Excuse me?!” Anne turned on her sister.

“Is being paired up with a parent for safety’s sake something to be ashamed of, Anju? One would think that means you’d be safest.” James asked, voice lowering slightly. All the Potter kids stood stiffly at attention, glancing nervously at Anne. She’d been unpredictable all summer, and with the Sorting looming dark above them all, all the other Potter kids were well convinced of where she was headed.

“No.” Anne said, though her glare told another story.

“Alright, let’s get moving.” Lily clapped her hands together, ushering her youngest daughter forward and into the fire place.

“Charu, Madhu, you two next.” James said, once Lily and Anne had disappeared.

“Why not us?” Harry asked.

“Because there needs to be an extra eye on you boys.” James said, as Drew stood on his toes, attempting to pull down the bowl of floo powder.

“For Adi, obviously.” Harry joked, despite knowing full well what his father meant. Now that everyone knew that Voldemort was back, and what he was capable of doing, it made more than a little sense to keep an adult with him at all times until the train. Not that that had prevented anything in the past, but it was a good enough start. “He’s on the run from the law.”

“The coppers will never catch me.” Drew said, adopting a poor attempt at an old Western accent. “I’m too quick.”

James ruffled Drew’s hair fondly, earning a bright smile. “Go on through, boys. Remember. Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Say it clearly.”

“Platform Nine and Three Quarters.” Harry said, as he tossed the Floo Powder into the fireplace. The flames glowed a lurid green, and Harry, grabbing his brother by the upper arm, dragged him into them.

They emerged out onto the platform seconds later, spotting their mother, sisters and Matt dawdling by a pillar. Drew trotted forward immediately, joining the rest of their family.

Harry didn’t move until James walked right out of the flames, not a single wrinkle on his shirt or a hair out of place.

“How do you do that?” Harry asked.

“You grow up with it.” James shrugged. “Or, I guess you did too, huh? I don’t know, really. Come on, let’s go group up so we can unshrink your trunks.”

The crowd parted before them as they made their way toward the rest of the family, audible whispering setting Harry’s nerves on edge. What was there to talk about? His family had been cheated of their lives for a full year, suffered publicly and intensely for daring to tell the truth, and now people were suddenly acting like nothing had happened. He schooled his features into a more neutral expression, trying his best to keep the tension in his head from affecting his body.

As his father had always told him, the best way to keep out of trouble was to avoid looking threatening in the first place.

He sighed, rolling his shoulders, and then looked over at his father to ask a question before realizing one hugely interesting fact. He’d noticed he’d grown taller, had definitely noticed that he’d had to steal clothes from his father’s closet more often than not, but he hadn’t noticed how much he’d grown. He was nearly as tall as his father, now, and perhaps even the same height as Ron.

Good thing his parents had gotten him a new uniform.

“Alright, no trampling each other, please. Harry, Matt, why don’t you two go find some trolleys while we unshrink the trunks?” James asked.

“Come on, then.” Harry ruffled Matt’s hair. Matt grimaced up at him, and Harry briefly wondered if he was attempting to smile. “Let’s go on a little adventure, just you and me.”

“Okay.” Matt murmured, glancing around nervously.

“There’s a few over there. We can do two trunks on one, can’t we?” Harry said, spotting two abandoned trolleys a few pillars over. He snatched up Matt’s hand before letting go, as if burned. Matt was nearly twelve, not the little boy of Harry’s memories-- he probably wouldn’t appreciate being babied in public, especially not when he was likely making a lasting first impression on the other students, new and old, around him.

Matt stared up at Harry in surprise, slowly retracting his hand. “Oh…”

“Hey, if you wanna, I won’t judge.” Harry shrugged, holding his hand out. “Come on, you’re only going to be this little for awhile. Take advantage of it.”

Matt seemed to hesitate for a moment before reaching out and grabbing Harry’s hand. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to hold mine. In public, I mean.” He said quietly.

“Me? Not want to hold my favorite brother’s hand?” Harry feigned surprise. “What kind of brother would I be? A bad one, if you’re being kind.”

“I thought Adi was your favorite brother.” He pointed out with a small smile.

“Hey, Appa said it. We can all have multiple favorites.” Harry chuckled. “Might as well get those trolleys before Amma comes after us. Then we’ll have more problems than we need.”

“Good idea.” He said. They walked quickly through the station, and each of them grabbed a trolley before turning around.

“Alright, here we are, your favorites.” Harry said, causing Matt to giggle behind one hand. “Complete with trolleys.”

“That’s weird.” Anne hummed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “I don’t see my favorite anything.”

“I do.” Sarah cut in. Harry perked up, looking hopeful. “Well done, Matt. You’ve put up with him so well.”

“I’m so proud.” Lily said, ruffling both Sarah and Matt’s hair with either hand.

“Me too.” James grinned, eyes on the scarlet train that was happily puffing smoke. “We all made it this far, kids. Despite all odds. Congratulations.”

“Ten knuts says Anne won’t make it to the end of the train ride.” Drew teased.

“You won’t make it to the train if you keep that up.” She warned him.

“Harry!”

Harry turned around sharply to spot Ron’s head bobbing above the crowd, and waved. He couldn’t see Hermione, but that was often true. She was more than likely right behind Ron, as always.

Ron grabbed Harry in a quick hug before turning to violently ruffle Drew’s hair. “Looks like all the munchkins are coming to school this year.” He said.

“Yes they are.” Harry said proudly. “Look at us, all growing old.”

James sniffled audibly. “Wow.”

“Something wrong, Professor?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Nothing at all.” James said, reaching for Lily. He pulled her into his side, exhaling forcefully. “Everything is much better than it could be.”

“We should probably get on the train.” Ron said, turning to look over his shoulder. “It’s almost time to leave.”

“Do you kids mind keeping track of the triplets?” Lily smiled.

“Looks like we’ll be assigned a kid each for the train ride.” Harry joked. “Which ones do you guys want?”

“Matt.” Hermione said immediately, too soon to have not thought about it in the past.

“I’ll take Drew.” Ron shrugged.

“Which means I get--” Harry began, only to be cut off by Anne.

“I don’t need you looking out for me.” She snapped. “I can handle this on my own.” She reached out, snatching her shrunken trunk from James before storming off through the crowd.

“Uh-- I--” James said, watching Anne leave. “I should-- I’m going to--” He pointed at her, looking back at Lily, who pointed after Anne emphatically. “Great. I’m gonna go… handle that.” He sprinted off after Anne, pushing past people in his attempt to get to the train just as, if not before, she did.

“So, that puts a damper on things, doesn’t it?” Harry said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Madhu, Adi, come on.” Sarah said. “We’ll be finding a compartment with Kyung and Shin-ji, who should be…” She counted the pillars under her breath in Tamil, which brought a smile to Harry’s face. Old habits did stick. “That pillar there. Grab your trunks. I’ll resize them for you once we’re on the train.”

The two boys grabbed for their trunks, quickly following after their sister.

“Harry.” Lily reached out, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. “I know you have to catch the train, but…”

“Everything alright?” Harry frowned. “I can go help Appa with Anne, if you’re worried about her.”

“No, I’m sure your father has that handled. Hopefully.” Lily waved his concern off. “I’m going to miss you, is all. You’ve gotten so big, but you’re always going to be my little boy, you know that?”

“I know, I know.” Harry sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. He put his hands on his hips, scrunching up his face. “I’m always small in your heart or something, I get it.”

“I love you, Harry.” She said seriously.

“What’s happening?” Harry looked around, confused. “Who’s hurt? What happened? What did I do?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” She laughed. “I just… probably don’t tell you that as much as I should. You be safe at Hogwarts, alright? Watch out for your siblings.”

“Do you have to ask?” Harry said. “I’ll do my best. They’re sneaky, though, so I don’t know how much I’ll catch.”

“Just look in all the places you were doing dangerous things.” She shrugged. “How different can a few first years be?”

“I mean, Matt’s going to be fine. Except he might be sad. Actually, Matt won’t be fine.” Harry frowned. “He won’t be anywhere near the Chamber, though. Anne, probably. Sarah? Maybe. Adi, definitely. He’ll walk right into it, knowing him.” Harry chuckled. “I don’t know why you worry about me when you’re setting that loose on the world.”

“Just keep an eye on them. Your father can only do so much.” She reached up, placing a hand on his cheek and letting out a quiet sigh. “You look so much like him, you know.”

“Except for the most important part.” Harry pointed to his eyes. “That’s all you.”

“Every part of you is important, sweetheart.” She said quietly.

“I know that, Amma. Come on.” Harry grinned. “Everyone’s always saying that I’ve got your eyes. Just wanted a chance to say it myself for once.”

She let out a soft chuckle, smiling up at him. “Go on, Harry. I don’t want you missing that train.”

“You and Appa be good, alright?” Harry said teasingly, hugging his mother as tightly as he could. “I don’t want any more siblings. The ones I’ve got are enough trouble. The next kids in this family better be mine.”

Lily laughed, her voice thick with emotion. “We gave up on more kids years ago- before the triplets were born, actually. You take your time with those grandbabies, though, alright?”

“A couple decades, at least. No problem. I’ll see you in December, Amma. Be safe.” Harry let go of her so she could resize his trunk, before easily hoisting it onto the trolley. He patted her upper arm once more, a bright smile on his face, before motioning to his friends. “Come on, let’s find ourselves somewhere quiet. Or we can invade the kids’ compartment.”

“You want us to be seen with the firsties?” Ron asked, mostly joking.

“You better get used to that idea.” Harry said, as they began pushing their trolleys toward the train. “You’re going to be seen with firsties a lot this year.”

* * *

 

“Freedom.” James said, as he stepped out of the fireplace. He looked around the living room as if he was truly seeing it for the first time. It was surprisingly clean, no muddy jackets or jumpers strewn about the floor and no half open books resting on the arm of the couch. The mess of parchment sheafs that Harry had “organized” on the floor while doing his summer homework was gone, leaving behind no trace that five children had played here, slept here, lived here. “It doesn’t feel as good as I was expecting.”

Lily followed him out of the fireplace, brushing some stray soot from her pants. “Well you’ll be seeing all of them at the feast tonight, so I’m really the only free one.”

“Can’t come soon enough.” James sighed, lining up his shoes neatly on the mat beside the fireplace. That too was strangely empty. Everything about the house seemed to be, now that he really thought about it. “I miss them already. They’ve only been gone, what, five minutes?”

“Tell them I said hi and to eat their vegetables.” Lily said, slipping her shoes off and placing them beside James’.

“What else would they eat?” James asked, puzzled.

“They’ll understand the sentiment.” Lily told him.

“Alright, I’ll pass the message on.” James crossed the room to throw himself down on the couch with a groan. “Ugh. What do we do now?”

Lily stood next to the couch, tugging at her ponytail as she thought. “It’s too early for dinner… Um.” She paused, looking around for a moment. “James. I can’t remember the last time we didn’t have at least one of the kids around.”

“Of course you can’t.” James laughed. “It was, what, June 1980? The last time both of us were home without any one of them?” His laughter quickly trailed off as he frowned. “Feels a lot like it did then. That weird anticipation.”

“I feel like something is about to happen, and I’m going to have to yell at someone and clean up a mess.” Lily said, sitting down beside her husband.

James, with a boyish grin, shifted his feet into her lap. “Only messes we’ll have to clean are the ones we make.”

“Unless Remus suddenly decides to take up mess-making.” Lily hummed in agreement.

“We’ve known Remus for twenty-five years now.” James laughed. “I doubt he’s going to change his ways now, if he hasn’t already.”

“I dunno. Remus has a way of surprising us.” Lily reminded him.

“A very good point.” James said solemnly. “Maybe you should be the teacher, not me.”

“We have five children, dear.” Lily snorted. “No way in hell I’m subjecting myself to any more than that. I’ll stick with making potions, thanks.”

“Darn.” James shook his head. “Thought I could offload this Defense job. You know, when I took it, they were going on about some curse with the teachers. We had a different one every year, didn’t we? When we were at school?”

Lily tilted her head back thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think we did. That’s actually pretty weird.”

“I used to call them the white people parade.” James smiled fondly. “What I figure is that there wasn’t a curse at all-- it was the kids that kept scaring them off. The responsibility that comes with teaching a school full of kids how not to blow their own bits off is a scary one. And I take pride in the fact that I’m pretty hard to scare off. You know, I did face Voldemort head on once, without a wand even.”

“Yes, dear, I seem to remember something along those lines.” Lily said dryly. “Especially considering you never shut up about it.”

“Got to remind people I got the job honestly.” James chuckled. “Not just on my son’s name.”

Lily let out a sigh, sagging further into their old couch. “He’s getting so big, James.” She said.

“He’s stolen my Order of the Phoenix shirt, did you see?” James shook his head. “Looks like I’m seeing a ghost sometimes, when I see him.”

“It’s scary how much like you he looks.” She huffed out a sigh. “It’s like I stole a time turner, sometimes.”

“Well, your old man of a husband, the current and most improved version, has a good day planned for you to keep your mind off all of this.” James sat back up, swinging his legs over Lily’s knees and back onto the carpet. He slid over to her side of the couch, trapping her between the arm of the couch and his body, to plant a kiss on her cheek. “See? Seventeen year old James wasn’t a quarter as smooth! An eighth, maybe, but a quarter? No way.”

“Should I be worried about your plans? You know they never seem to end well.” Lily said, though she was smiling fondly.

“I mean, you’ve always enjoyed them.” James winked. “Except the one we botched that left us with three more kids, but that was on both of us. And we had fun, so really, was it that bad?”

“You get to make jokes about it when you give birth to three screaming humans.” Lily told him, pushing his face away from her own with a laugh.

“Fine, fine, maybe I wasn’t much help with that part.” James laughed. “But otherwise, I’ve been improving at least. You’ve got to admit that.”

“I admit nothing. You can pry any such confessions from my cold, dead body.” Lily said primly.

“Well, I have a good afternoon planned.” James said. “A highlight reel of our children’s worst moments, probably snacks, and maybe even some Remus Lupin, if he wakes up.”

“You should have lead with that.” She told him. “Remus is the best part of this household.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” James said cheerfully.

Lily shoved at her husband a bit and sat up fully, finally noticing the precarious pile of neatly labeled VHS tapes in the corner. When she’d first been pregnant with Sarah, and only had one screaming child to deal with, she’d managed to get her hands on a new JVC camcorder. It had taken long hours of experimenting with different charms, but eventually she had managed to make it mostly resistant to the heavy atmosphere of magic that tended to short out muggle technology. Arthur Weasley had been extremely impressed, and might have even fainted, if Lily had let him hold it-- he was notoriously clumsy, and exposing it to more magic than it already had seen didn’t seem smart, in her opinion.

“Good news, after a full summer of searching through the attic, I did find the one where Harry eats your makeup.” James said. “Figured we should lead with that one, seeing as it is first time wise.”

“Knowing our son, I can imagine him doing that even now.” Lily said dryly. “It was still better than the time Anju smeared it all over Madhu’s face, at least.”

“Poor boy.” James winced. “The rest of them do give him way too hard a time.”

“He’s such a Hufflepuff.” She sighed. “He’ll put up with anything, if he likes someone enough.”

“The worst part of it is that he doesn’t seem to know.” James shook his head, before levitating the first tape over to a clear spot beside one of the walls. All the pictures usually hung upon it had been taken down, leaving a smooth, plain surface. He cast a spell at the tape, and suddenly, an image painted itself across the wall, like it was being projected. With another wave of his wand, the contents of the tape began to play. “Showtime.”

_“Hari”, James’ gleeful voice echoed through the room. “What did you do?”_

_“Nothin’.” A two year old Harry, face smeared with red lipstick, replied innocently, swinging his legs back and forth. His ankles thumped loudly against the marble bathroom counter as he grinned, occasionally pausing to stick his messy fingers into the sink, which he’d filled with water. The water had long since turned pink, and James remembered thinking first that Harry was bleeding before noticing the nearly empty tube of lipstick floating in the sink. “I did nothin’.”_

_“That doesn’t look like nothing, sweetheart.” Lily’s voice boomed forth, amusement clear in every word. “Did you get into Amma’s things?”_

_“Nooooo!” Harry shook his head violently, dizzily blinking his eyes after he stopped. “Don' touch Amma's things!”_

_“Then are these Hari’s things?” Lily asked, coming into the shot to poke at his pudgy cheek._

_“Yes!” Harry declared, clapping his hands. They were stained red, evidence of the crime he’d committed. “Hari’s things!”_

_“No, silly, those are Amma’s things.” Lily corrected._

_“Sharing?” Harry pouted innocently._

_Lily let out a delighted laugh, leaning down to smother Harry’s lipstick-smeared face in kisses._

The image faded out as James waved his wand, Harry’s smiling face replaced by a blue square, a series of dates appearing one after another in the bottom left corner. When he’d reached the date he’d been searching for, he whispered a word under his breath and the scene began to play.

_“Charu, come on, smile for Appa!” James implored, holding the camera in one hand and tickling a six month old Sarah’s chubby stomach with the other. Sarah, as she often did in the present, remained impassive, brown eyes sweeping slowly around her parents’ room to take in her surroundings. She looked unduly serious, despite being only in a diaper, her personality already clearly on display. “I know you've smiled for Amma before.”_

_“It’s because she likes me better.” Lily said from off-screen. “Come on, honey, can you give Amma a smile?”_

_Sarah’s eyes went wide at the sound of her mother’s voice, the fists that she had been holding up by her ears hitting the sheets of her parents’ bed in excitement. James chuckled, tapping her nose. She stared at his finger in confusion for a second before going back to her small celebration. Her feet kicked out as she let out a string of happy noises._

_“I can hear you smiling!” Lily cooed._

_“Charu, come on, for Appa. Forget her. Please?” James begged. Sarah’s face scrunched up as she scanned the room again, desperately trying to find out where her mother’s voice was coming from. She sniffled loudly once, twice, her lips pressed tightly together, and then opened her mouth to wail._

_Immediately, Lily swept into the room. Her hair was longer than it was in the present, and fell in a neat braid down her back. There were less lines in her face, and a sparkle in her green eyes. She looked less tired, despite being visibly pregnant with what they’d soon find out was the triplets. The camera followed her every movement as she approached the bed, Sarah smiling brightly once Lily came into view._

_Lily scooped Sarah up into her arms, blowing raspberries against her belly and bouncing her up and down._

The scene cut again, and James switched the tape out for another, from later in the stack. Lily twirled her wand around, zipping through memories at a dizzying speed before coming to a stop.

_The triplets were all standing on wobbly legs, looking around inquisitively. They were just a month and a half away from their third birthday, judging by the date on the video. A younger James was crouched down with them in the backyard, the dying light reflecting off one of his older pairs of glasses. Like every other one he’d owned, they were black and rectangular, but bore little resemblance to his current pair. He had a freshly lit sparkler in one hand, and was waving it around, avoiding letting Anne grab at it with her tiny fingers._

_“Careful, dear, don’t let them get burned!” Lily said from behind the camera._

_“I was younger than this when my grandparents let me try for the first time.” James said onscreen, with a roll of his eyes. “Come on, Anju, put your hand on Appa’s.”_

_Anne made another grab for the colored sparks coming from the end of the sparkler, instead of listening to her father. James, anticipating this, held it out of her reach again._

_“Anju.” He said warningly. “Should I let Adi go first, then? Adi will listen, right, Adi?”_

_“Yeah, yeah!” Drew clapped his hands together gleefully, causing Anne to pout. His bare feet thumped against the stone floor of the patio as he moved a little closer, eyes alight._

_“My turn!” Anne said indignantly, stomping her foot._

_“Will you listen to Appa then?” James asked. “Come on, kanna, Amma won't let us keep going much longer. The light is already gone.”_

_“Yes, Appa.” She said, nodding seriously._

_“Good, good. Come on, come hold it with me.” He said, shifting the sparkler to his left hand before holding his right arm out to her. Anne ran over eagerly, placing her hand gently over her father’s as she stared at the colored sparks in awe._

_Matt made a noise in the background, toddling away from James as though the sudden presence of Anne’s hand on James’ scared him._

_“S’okay, Madhu.” Sarah, almost four, said, just loudly enough for the camera to pick up, as she clumsily patted her youngest brother’s head. Matt’s hair, which was longer than it ever had been since, stood up awkwardly afterward. She gathered him into her side, Matt’s hand grabbing the fabric of her skirt. She and Anne had been dressed in matching pavadais, as James had made an effort to do every Deepavali until Sarah had left for Hogwarts. It was odd to think it would likely never happen again. “It's only lights. They're bright. That's it.”_

_“Bright, bright, bright.” Matt chanted, though it was impossible to tell whether he was agreeing or warning his older sister. Sarah only held him tighter, frowning at her father, as if convinced she could keep the lights away from him if she simply tried hard enough._

_The sparkler continued to burn down, James helping Anne write her name first in Tamil, then in English in the night air. She squealed happily, bouncing up and down on her toes._

_“Appa, look! Amma, look!” She shouted._

_“So smart, knowing all of this already.” James gasped theatrically. “Whatever are we going to do with you when you get big, hm?”_

_She giggled, nodding her head enthusiastically. When the sparkler had burnt down, she turned to plant a sloppy kiss on James’ cheek. “Love you!”_

_“Love you too.” James grinned, tossing the burnt out sparkler into a waiting bucket of water. He lit another, motioning to Drew, who was practically vibrating with excitement. “Adi, maybe we should make you wait again, huh?” He teased._

_“No! Madhu doesn’t wanna!” He insisted, pointing at Matt. True to his words, the youngest Potter ducked fully behind Sarah. “My turn!”_

_“Okay, okay, come on.” James laughed. “Your turn. Come stand with Appa.”_

_Drew tripped in his haste to get closer to James, grinning happily as Anne shuffled off-screen towards Lily. Someone had rolled up the sleeves of his kurta to his elbows for him, so, despite his hands being grubby from rooting around in the vegetable garden, his clothes were just as clean as they had been when James had helped him dress himself earlier that afternoon._

_“Put your hand on mine.” James instructed, and Drew slapped his tiny hand down on James’, looking determined._

_“Tada!” He said, obviously pleased with himself._

_“Very good, very good.” James chuckled, waving his hand around so the the trail of smoke the sparkler left behind hung in the air before them. Drew let out loud noises of awe, putting his other hand down on top of the first without thought._

_“Tell Amma what you think, Adi.” James prompted. “What's goin’ on in that noggin?”_

_“Bright!” Drew said, repeating Matt’s earlier words. “Brighter than Anju’s.”_

_“Hey!” Anne’s voice came from behind the camera, followed by Lily’s laughter._

_“That’s just because it’s darker out, buggy.” Lily told Drew._

_“If it's less light out, anything will look brighter, Adi.” James explained. “They're both the same amount of bright.”_

_“Appa loves me best!” Anne said, red hair bobbing in and out of the frame._

_“Nu-uh!” Drew responded, sticking his tongue out at his older sister._

_“Yah-huh!” Anne yelled._

_“I love you both the same.” James reminded them, as he would many times over the coming years. “Adi, watch the sparkler, it'll be done soon. And there’s no more until next Deepavali.”_

_“Nuh uh!” Harry, who was working on his math homework by the porch light, called out. At eight and a quarter years old, he was already tall for his age, growing into the lanky form he’d inherited from his father. “They’re in the garage, on the top shelf!”_

_“The garage?” Matt repeated, scrunching up his nose._

_“Yeah!” Harry grinned, setting his pencil aside. “I found ‘em with Ron. Didn’t have any fire, though, so we couldn’t make them go.”_

_“Hari, that’s not something we want the kids to know.” Lily groaned._

_“Oops.” Harry said, going back to his work with a sly smile on his face._

_“I’m gonna go move them, James.” Lily said, the camera’s shot swinging down to focus on her old sneakers before going dark._

“That little sneak.” James chuckled. “They never did find them, after all that talk.”

“Thank God.” Lily muttered, with a sniffle. James put an arm around her, pulling her into his side so he could plant a kiss on the top of her head.

“We’ve got ‘em still for a few years yet, love.” He reminded her.

She didn’t reply, instead waving her wand to start the next video.

_An off-center shot of Lily’s face filled the wall as she held the bulky camcorder backwards, the lens pointed toward her face._  
_“Hey James! I hope you’re having fun on your away game. I’m stuck here dealing with our little demons, who have been suspiciously missing since I got out of the bathroom. I’m gonna go find them.”_

_The camera turned back around to show the second floor hallway, toys and towels scattered around the floor and messes spilling out of the kids’ rooms, and Lily began trekking through the house, calling out for the kids. Eventually she entered the kitchen, which had descended into chaos._

_Drew was holding an empty plastic bag, shaking out the last remnants of pancake flour onto the hardwood floor of the kitchen. Anne was hopping and spinning in delighted circles, while Matt was tucked into the corner near one of the cabinets. He was holding the cardboard box that should have contained the bag in his lap and picking up tiny handfuls of the white powder from the floorboard, shoving it happily into his mouth. Sarah was sitting in the middle of the mess, hands tightly gripping an equally flour covered towel. Her lower lip wobbled, and she stared resolutely ahead, willing herself not to cry._

_Lily let out a wheezing laugh from behind the camera, causing the view to shake wildly. Anne waved enthusiastically at the camera while Drew leaned down, scraping together a handful of flour and throwing it into the air._

_“Charu, honey, honey, are you okay?” Lily asked, voice higher than normal as she attempted to stifle uncontrollable laughter._

_“I tried to clean up.” Sarah said, holding up the towel. She sniffled, tears threatening to leak out to her round cheeks. “It didn’t work. I’m sorry.”_

_“Oh, it’s okay.” Lily let out a muffled snort. “Come here, Charu.”_

_“And Madhu’s eatin’ off the floor, and I told him that’s where the germs are, and he kept going and--” She trailed off, physically unable to voice the horrors she’d witnessed anymore, and pulled herself up to her feet, running over to Lily._

_The camera shook as she collided with her mother’s legs, and then the camera was set on the floor. The corner of the image held a red-faced Lily hugging her oldest daughter and shaking with suppressed giggles, and Anne’s legs could still be seen hopping up and down. Matt put more of the flour in his mouth, peering curiously at the video camera._

_“You’re okay, honey.” Lily said. “I’ll clean up the kitchen, okay? Madhu is gonna be just fine.”_

_“Germs, Amma.” Sarah repeated sadly, eyes downcast. “Germs.”_

_“Sometimes babies need to eat germs so that their immune systems get stronger.” Lily told her._

_“I ate germs?” She asked, eyes wide._

_“Everyone eats a little bit of germs sometimes.” Lily said, tapping Sarah’s nose._

_“Nuh uh.” Sarah muttered, shaking her head. She stared dejectedly at the floor. “I don’t. Right Amma? Right?”_

_“Of course, honey.” She laughed. The camera jiggled suddenly, and swung upwards to reveal Drew’s curious face peering into the lens. “Adi, don’t-!”_

The video cut off abruptly.

“Am I interrupting something?” Remus asked hesitantly. James looked over his shoulder to see Remus waiting at the end of the couch, thin fingers gripping the wooden armrests. “I can go back to my room.”

Lily turned around, wiping at her eyes. “Remus! No, come on, we’re watching old videos of the kids.” She said, clearing her throat.

“Come on, there’s loads of space.” James patted the free space on the couch beside him. “Come cry with us. They’re as much yours as they are ours, yeah?”

“If I’m being invited…” Remus said, making his way over to the spot James had pointed out. He settled down on the couch, smiling weakly at Lily. “So, what’s the next one?”

“Well, we haven’t watched Hari crying because he doesn’t want Madhu to grow up.” Lily suggested. “He thought he would stop being cute if he got any bigger.”

“Oh, good.” Remus chuckled. “Come on, James, don’t deny us.”

“Fine, fine.” James waved his wand, and a new scene began playing on the wall. He slung his free arm around Remus’ shoulders, chuckling as Remus elbowed him gently in the ribs. “Cut it out, Moony, you know you love me.”

“Unfortunately.” Remus sighed, settling in to watch as Harry began crying.

“Joke’s on him.” Lily said, burrowing into the couch. “Madhu is still the cutest of the lot.”

* * *

 

Matt had always struggled with making decisions. It wasn’t that he spent too long debating the most efficient thing to do, or how to achieve the best outcomes, like Sarah. It was just that he preferred to do things that didn’t inconvenience others.

Which meant that he spent several minutes standing uncertainly in the corridor of the train, glancing at the slowly filling compartments. He wanted to sit with his siblings, but they probably wanted to find their friends, or to go off to try and make new ones. Matt, unlike all of them, was too shy to talk to strangers if someone else didn’t introduce them first.

“Madhu.” Sarah said softly, squeezing his shoulder. He turned quickly, looking up at her in relief. The Sarah that had left for Hogwarts had been different than the Sarah that had come back, but Matt still loved her more than anything else. She was quieter, and more tired, and she preferred to sneak out of her room in the middle of the night and eat snacks with her youngest brother when everyone else was asleep rather than talk to anyone during the day. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure where to sit.” He admitted, wringing his hands nervously.

“Come sit with us.” Sarah said matter-of-factly, as if his inclusion had never been in doubt. “Anju’s gone off somewhere, so it’s just Adi, Kyung, Shin-ji and I. You’ve met all of them before. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Matt said quickly. “Your friend is very nice.”

“If you don’t want to, that’s alright. I’ll stay with you.” Sarah promised. “It’s a stressful day. I don’t want you feeling worse than you need to.”

“No, that’s okay. Don’t you want to sit with your friends?” Matt asked her, tilting his head to the side.

“Anywhere we sit, I’ll be sitting with a friend.” Sarah shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Matt felt the telltale pinpricks of tears in the corners of his eyes, and he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling. “Okay.” He whispered.

“Only if you’re comfortable, okay?” Sarah said, hand letting his shoulder go to rub his back. She always had a sense for what he needed. “I won’t make you go in if you don’t want to.”

“You’re my friend, too.” Matt told her seriously. “I want to.”

“Good.” Sarah said with a smile. “I was worried. Come on, let’s go in.” She slid the compartment door open, holding it to the side. Inside, Drew and Shin-ji were very seriously singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat in a round. Both of them had surprisingly pleasant voices for eleven year-olds.

“What are they--” Sarah frowned. “Are they even singing the same song?”

“I told them they could not, and they are proving me wrong.” Kyung shrugged, barely glancing up from his book.

“Step one.” Sarah sighed, sitting down beside Kyung. She scooted over, after a second’s thought, leaving space for Matt. “Don’t tell Drew he can’t do something.”

“Drew once spent three years trying to catch a squirrel because Dad made a joke about him not being able to.” Matt sighed. “He did it, eventually.”

“A squirrel.” Shin-ji suddenly stopped singing, turning to look at Drew with a raised eyebrow.

“I was very determined.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I like to be able to do things.”

Shin-ji eyed him curiously for a moment before nodding. “That’s an admirable trait. Embrace it.”

“Or don’t.” Sarah interjected, knowing full well the consequences of giving Drew free reign.

Shin-ji turned to look at Sarah, smoothing her frown into a rather diplomatic expression. “You should encourage people to be the best they can be. Especially your siblings.” She said without emotion.

“That is not what you were saying this morning.” Kyung snorted into his book.

“You do not count.” She deadpanned.

“Siblings.” Sarah shook her head. “Eternally frustrating.”

“Am I frustrating?” Matt asked quietly.

“Of course not.” Sarah replied. “The rest of them? Without a doubt. You’re special.”

Matt flushed, but smiled happily at his lap. “Thanks. You’re special too.”

“What about me?” Drew asked, leaning across the compartment to frown at his siblings.

“Not the worst option.” Sarah said bluntly.

“I can accept that.” Drew decided with a nod.

“Wow. Why can I not speak to you like that?” Kyung asked his own sister.

“If you disrespected me like that, I would crush you.” Shin-ji said calmly.

“I thought as much.”

“That’s sweet.” Sarah smiled at Shin-ji. “Older brothers are a pain.”

“Ah, the sweet sting of betrayal.” Kyung sighed. “I will have to make a new friend.”

“Who?” Sarah laughed.

“I will improvise. There has to be someone else who can put up with me.” He shrugged.

“I’m sure he could make something in the Potions lab.” Sarah said.

“Not hardly.” Shin-ji said. “He is not nearly competent enough.”

“You are the one who set Mother’s books on fire.” Kyung reminded her.

“I was a child.” Shin-ji interjected.

“That means nothing.” Kyung waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s like watching you and Harry.” Drew said to his sister. “Except Kyung can actually fight back properly.”

“All older brothers are the same.” Sarah replied. “Useless.”

“You’re okay.” Matt told Drew, who grinned wildly at him.

“A marked departure from the family track record.” Sarah sighed. “I hope Harry hasn’t done anything particularly stupid yet.”

“Have you met Harry?” Drew asked, incredulous.

“You’re right.” Sarah shook her head. “He’s probably done at least three stupid things already.”

* * *

Harry scanned the line of first years, all anxious and glancing nervously at the Sorting Hat from time to time, to find his younger siblings. Sarah was seated at the very end of Ravenclaw table with Kyung, seated suspiciously close to the door, and Harry had taken up a similar seat at the Gryffindor table, in case Matt’s sorting didn’t go as anticipated.

“Have you seen them?” Harry asked Hermione, who shook her head. “How about you, Ron?”

“Yeah- they’re near the middle. I can kinda see Anne’s hair.” He replied, squinting over the crowd of students. Suddenly, a look of concern came over him. “Mattie looks like he’s gonna vomit.”

“Oh, no.” Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. He glanced up at the staff table, feeling relieved as he spotted his father keeping a close eye on the first years. “He’s going to be so upset.”

“Has he not realized?” Hermione asked. “I mean, at this point, it’s more than a little obvious that he won’t be a Gryffindor.”

“He thinks he’s going to Ravenclaw.” Harry said. “Or at least that’s as much as Sarah’s guessed. She won’t ask him. Something about ‘not making him anxious’.”

“He’s always anxious.” Ron pointed out.

“Mum says he was born anxious.” Harry snorted. “That’s a thought.”

“That’s how anxiety tends to work.” Ron shrugged.

“So, bets on the other two?” Harry asked. “Anne’s going to Slytherin, without a doubt. If you’d asked me a year or two ago, I would’ve said Gryffindor, but something about this past year…”

“She’s been a little brat.” Ron agreed, leaning his elbows on the table.

“She’s going through a difficult time in her life.” Hermione countered. “You can’t just be rude to her.”

“Oh, I can. It’s the only benefit of being older than her.” Harry said. “I’ll be as rude as I want.”

“That’s why she hates you, mate.” Ron rolled his eyes. “If we tried to say that rubbish to Ginny she’d kick our arses.”

“But Ginny is cool.” Harry said. “Anne’s about as cool as a volcano.” He saw Hermione’s mouth open and spoke before she could. “In the temperature way.”

“What the bloody hell is a volcano?” Ron mumbled after a moment.

“It’s like a mountain, except that it explodes.” Harry whispered, voice full of barely restrained awe. “It’s so cool.”

“That sounds so cool.” Ron agreed quietly.

“Pay attention to the Sorting, boys.” Hermione sighed. “You won’t want to miss it.”

“Three reasons to die.” Harry said glibly. “I usually don’t even need one.”

McGonagall had started calling children up to the stool while Harry had been discussing volcanoes with his friends. They watched several first years get sorted before a familiar name was called.

“Shin-ji Nang.” McGonagall called out. A tiny slip of a girl stepped forward, dark hair falling heavily to her shoulders. She sat on the stool, hands folded neatly in her lap.

“GRYFFINDOR.”

She hardly seemed phased as she got to her feet, walking down the steps and sitting down a few seats from Harry on the bench. Harry waved awkwardly at her, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Anne Potter.”

Anne stepped forward, separating herself from the crowd of firsties, with her head held high. The gold locket hanging from her neck glinted in the candlelight as she sat primly on the stool. The Sorting Hat was lowered onto her red hair, and sat there for a long moment. Harry remembered how tough that moment had been for him, the anticipation and dread that had been simmering all day reaching an all time high, and hoped, for her sake as much as everyone else’s, that it ended soon.

“SLYTHERIN.”

A heavy silence fell over the Great Hall as the hat was lifted from Anne’s head. Her brown eyes were wide with what might have been shock, and after a moment she stood and walked quickly to the still-silent Slytherin table.

“Andrew Potter.”

Drew sat down on the stool next, still glancing nervously towards Anne even as the hat was lowered over his eyes. It barely hesitated before screaming, “GRYFFINDOR.”

He hopped up, descending the stairs and joining the cheering lions as he took a seat beside his brother. Harry ruffled Drew’s head happily, leaning down to yell a few words of encouragement into his ear over the roars of their classmates before the next name was called.

The most important name of them all, if Harry’s vote was being taken into account.

“Matthew Potter.”

Matt shuffled up to the front of the room, visibly shaking as he took a seat on the wooden stool. Again, there was hardly a pause as the hat was placed atop his black hair before it made a decision.

“HUFFLEPUFF.”

Matt paled as the hat was pulled from his head, and he opened and closed his mouth as the yellow and black draped table burst into applause. He jumped up, eyes shiny and panicked as he practically ran to the table, obviously trying to avoid any further attention. Harry watched as Matt sat down, staring down at the table as he fought to hide his tears.

Harry motioned to Sarah, who was staring intently at Matt. She didn’t see him. Great. He was back to his usual status as space occupying garbage again, now that Matt was upset. He looked up at the staff table to see that his father seemed to be attempting to break his spoon in half.

“We should just, uh, stay here.” Harry said eventually, voice shaking slightly. “He doesn’t want to talk right now, so I don’t think we should freak him out, right?”

“We can try to catch him after the feast.” Ron agreed with a frown. “Before they take all the first years to the dormitories.”

“I’m not a bad brother for just… letting him figure it out, am I?” Harry asked. He threw an arm around Drew’s shoulders, as if trying to hug Matt by proxy. “Or Anne, even. I mean, as much as I say she deserves it, she really doesn’t. She was fine before last winter. And she’s my sister, I mean, no matter how nasty she gets, I’m not going to wish Slytherin on her.”

Drew looked away from the Slytherin table with a wince. “Harry, everyone in that house is going to hate her.” He said. “Matt’s gonna have friends for sure, but what about Anne?”

“Amma and Appa told us we had to stick together.” Harry said resolutely. “And maybe that doesn’t start right this minute, but it sure as hell starts today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your friendly neighborhood fic writer here to explain why we chose the houses we did for the triplets!!!
> 
> Matt was obviously a shoe-in for Hufflepuff. He might not be the brightest or the bravest, but the kid’s got a heart of gold and will do anything to make sure the people he loves are alright. He’s a ravenclaw secondary, but he doesn’t have the drive for knowledge necessary to put him with the ravens, unfortunately.
> 
> Drew was always a Gryffindor, though he could have done well in Hufflepuff, too. He’s loyal and hard-working, but tends more towards big displays of bravery when it comes down to it. The kid doesn’t know when to quit.
> 
> As for Anne? Well, it’s probably the horcrux.
> 
> But seriously, Anne isn’t normally cunning or ambitious so much as pig-headed and determined. But when a decent chunk of your soul is being influenced by Voldemort, even the Sorting Hat can get confused. 
> 
> -L


	4. Inheritance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We want to tell you that, just maybe, you don’t have to hole yourself up in a common room of people who hate you! We’ll have you in ours, or we’ll find somewhere else for you to stay in the castle! It’s that easy!” Harry hissed. “As someone who’s also dealt with years worth of people who were supposed to be looking out for me despising my very existence, I’ve got solutions upon solutions that I’ve figured out, if you want them!”
> 
> “Well I don’t!” She shrieked, voice echoing off the dungeon walls. “I don’t want your stupid advice, and I don’t want your company, and I don’t want to be here! You can’t do anything to help me! I don’t need you to!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week, we somehow simultaneously hit 20k for Cursed Locket and 400,000 words overall. We can't believe we're at 20k in only four chapters, but the volume is a testament to how much we've gotten into these characters' heads and how much work we've put into making every update the best one we can send your way. 
> 
> It's exactly three months, just one quarter of a year, to the three year anniversary of us starting Rewrite, and believe me, we are just as surprised as you are that we are as close to the end as we are. We're in the home stretch, and we hope you'll stay with us the rest of the way, no matter how much trouble we make for your favorite characters. :)
> 
> -S&L

James Potter had returned to his office shortly after the feast, still laboring under the delusion that he might be able to be productive before returning home. He’d left in a hurry, at the end of last term, and the mess loomed before him, demanding his attention. He’d been expecting an hour or two of work, but this seemed like far too much.

What he wasn’t expecting was a quiet knock on the door.

“Door’s unlocked.” He said cheerfully, glad for the momentary distraction. “The Professor is in.”

The door slowly swung inward, revealing Matt’s tiny form. James was suddenly reminded of Harry, years and years before, though Harry had never looked quite so delicate.

“I… I didn’t know if you’d… gone home or…” Matt stuttered the words out, one hand fisted in the heavy black cloth of his robes.

“I’m not going to go home when I know one of my students needs me.” James said. “I’m especially not going to go home when my son needs me.”

Matt immediately pressed both of his hands to his face, sniffling loudly into the silence. “I-I’m supposed to be in the dorms- down by the kitchens- b-but I don’t know anybody and I’m scared and I th-thought I’d at least be with Charu but I’m not-”

“Close the door and come on in. I think it’s time we talked.” James motioned for Matt to come closer, conjuring a chair beside his with a lazy flick of his wand.

Matt stepped inside, gulping in a deep breath as he shut the door behind him. “I’m sorry, Appa.”

“Why are you sorry?” James asked, frowning. “You did nothing wrong.”

“B-because I’m being a baby!” Matt exclaimed.

“You’re not being a baby.” James said. “Not at all. The Sorting is a tough time for anyone, and for you… it was tougher than most.” He motioned to the chair beside him. “Come on. I even found you a chair, Madhu. Humor your old dad for a bit, hm?”

Matt sat down after another moment of scrubbing at his eyes, which did very little to clear the persistent tracks of tears.

James pulled Matt’s chair closer, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared. Nobody ever outgrows that.”

“But people don’t get scared about stupid things like this.” Matt whispered.

“This is not stupid.” James said. “It’s a big change. I don’t blame you.”

“I’m always with Anju or Adi or Charu or…” Matt sniffled again. “And now I’m not.”

“Just because you’re somewhere else for a little while doesn’t mean you won’t be.” James said. “I’ll make sure they stick with you. And they want to, all of them. Even Anju. She’s a bit difficult at the moment, sure, but you’re her little brother. They all will look out for you, no questions asked.”

“But I don’t want to make them. I’m just… I’m being stupid, Appa. After everything that Hari Anna has gone through, I’m throwing a temper tantrum because I got sorted into a different house than I thought…” Matt said, eyes downcast.

“What House you’re in is a big thing.” James said. “That doesn’t change when you’re eleven, or when you’re thirteen, or when you’re graduating. It is a scary change for most people, and even more terrifying for some. Nobody thinks you being scared is stupid, kanna. Everyone else is scared also. I was scared. Your Amma was also scared. Hari was scared, and so was Charu. No reason for you to think being scared makes you stupid.”

Matt let out a muffled sob from behind his hands. “I… I know but… It’s harder when it’s me.” He hiccuped, scrunching up his face as he struggled to find the right words. “Neenga ellam.. ore oru dharava bhayandhuttu, edhayaanu pannuvel. Ennakku... ennaku adhu madhiri onnu panna theriyaadhu.” (You’ll all get scared one time and then do something, anything at all. I don’t know how to do anything like that.)

“Madhu.” James said, carefully prying his son’s hands away from his face, finger by finger. His brown eyes were large and watery, his skin blotchy. He bit down on his lip when James’ pulled his hands away, shoulders shaking with the force of his muffled sobs. “Thaniyaa irundhaana bhayandhiruppen. Naan irukkapogaren, Hari irukkapogiraan, Charu irukkapogiraa. Anjuvum Adiyum irukkaporaa, ana…” He trailed off. “Iruppaa.” (I’ll be there, Hari’s going to be there, Charu’s going to be there. Anju and Adi will also be there, but… yeah, they’ll be there.)

Matt clutched at James’ hands, his tiny fingers shaking. It was more than obvious that he wanted to rip them back and hide his face again, and quite possibly hide his entire body under his father’s desk. “Iruppaanga, ana… Saendhu irukkamattome. Aduttha kadhava thattinenna orutthare irukkamaattanga.” He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “Avangallam illaama… eppadi thaniyaa irukkaporeno.” (They’ll be here, but… we won’t be together. If I knock on the next door, none of them will be there. God knows how I’m going to be without them.)

“Adha eppadi seriya pannanumnu Appaakku theriyume.” James smiled as he pulled out the first drawer of his desk, withdrawing an old, ragged piece of parchment. He placed it on his desk, looking inordinately satisfied. (Your dad knows how to fix that one!)

Matt looked down at the parchment, hesitantly pulling it closer with one hand while wiping away a few stray tears with the other. “Verum paper dhaan, Appa.” (It’s just paper, dad.)

“Enna, onnaku theriyalena onnume illaiyaa?” James teased, before tapping his wand against the parchment. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” (What, if you can’t see it, does it mean nothing’s there?)

A splotch of reddish-brown ink appeared in the center of the parchment, then bled outward, forming into little lines and boxes. Matt suddenly realized that it was Hogwarts, duplicated on this piece of parchment, names following the paths their owners were taking around the castle. He let out a quiet gasp, eyes trailing across the parchment until he discovered his own name, printed neatly beside James’.

“Venumnaa eduthukko.” James said, smiling fondly at the map. “Vendamnaa, naan vechuppen.” (If you want it, you can have it. If you don’t, I’ll keep it.)

He stared down at the map for another moment before looking up at his father, tears drying on his cheeks. “Nejamaa kuduppela?” (Will you really give it to me?)

“Sonnattha kekamattiyaa?” James laughed. “Onnakku dhaan kudukkaren, thangame.” (So you don’t listen when your dad speaks, huh? I’m giving it to you, sweetheart.)

Matt blushed, ducking his head. “Kudutthelnaa… Vaangidhaan aganum. Thanks, Appa.” (If you’re giving it, I guess I have to take it.) He looked back at the map, trailing his finger over the paper until he found each of his siblings in their respective dormitories. “Kandupudichelaa? Illaanna… Yaaro kudutthaala?” (Did you find this? Or… did someone give it to you?)

“Marauders ellarume saendhu pannadhu.” James said. (Us Marauders, we made it together.)

Matt jerked upright, staring at James’ with wide eyes. “Idha pannela?” He breathed. (Did you make this?)

“You get your smarts from both of us, Madhu.” James chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his son’s hair. His hazel eyes crinkled at the edges. “Thaniyaa pannirukkamatten. Remus irundhadhunaaladhaan mudinjudhu.” (I wouldn’t have done it by myself. Remus is the only reason we ever finished it.)

“You and Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius and… Peter.” Matt suddenly jolted out of his chair, throwing his arms around James’ neck. “Thank you, Appa. Badhramaa vechuppen.” (I’ll keep it carefully.)

“I know you will.” James said, hugging Matt as tightly as he could. He buried his face in his son’s hair, a smile slowly overtaking his face. “Out of all of those kids, I trust you with this most.”

* * *

 

Matt hadn’t allowed himself to really appreciate the Hufflepuff common room before running off to meet his father, but he found that it was actually quite cozy. The round room had a low ceiling, but was overflowing with so many plants that it somehow felt bigger than it was. The large fireplace crackled warmly beneath a portrait of a dark-skinned, kind-looking woman that Matt assumed was Helga Hufflepuff.

He was seated in front of the fire, a worn copy of The Two Towers clutched in his hands. Lord of the Rings had always been his favorite book series, and it helped to reread them when he was feeling particularly anxious.

“You alright there, little guy?” Someone asked curiously. Matt looked up from his book to see a boy with curly brown hair that flopped down over his eyes and a wide grin. His robes were too big for him, the sleeves extending halfway down his fingers, but the confidence he carried himself with, despite looking seconds away from tripping over the hem, was endearing. “You’re lookin’ pretty serious about readin’ for a firstie.”

“Uh, yes, I’m… I’m fine.” He said, grip tightening on his book. “... Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Bertie!” The boy said, seating himself comfortably on the arm of Matt’s chair. He kicked his legs back and forth, a carefree smile on his face. “I’m a third year! You looked awful lonely earlier, at the table, so I figured I’d come find you after.”

Matt scooted a few inches away from the older boy, turning to face him fully, though he could feel his toes curling inside his shoes from nerves. “That’s… very nice of you.” He said quietly. “I’m sorry to have worried you.”

“I mean, I was scared as a firstie too.” Bertie shrugged. “Figured I’d help you out. You didn’t seem to have any friends yet, so, I figured I’d be your friend.”

Matt flushed, his mouth opening and shutting for a moment as he tried to wrap his head around the boy’s words. At primary school, any friends outside of his siblings had practically been made through them, so to have someone come up to him and speak so frankly was a bit of a shock.

“Sorry.” Bertie said, shoulders shifting forward, when Matt didn’t reply immediately. He ducked his head in embarrassment, reaching up to rub the top of his head. “My mom’s always sayin’ I’ve gotta let that stuff happen naturally, not just decide things for other people. Can I start again?”

“No!” Matt exclaimed. “I mean, yes! I just… it’s okay. I was just surprised.” He closed the book without bothering to mark the page, clearing his throat. “I’m Matthew. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Got a nickname, Matthew?” Bertie asked. “Or do you make everybody call you Matthew, like some tiny old man?”

“My mom calls me and dad her little old men.” Matt responded immediately. “But most people call me Matt. Or Mattie. Is Bertie short for something?”

“Bertram.” Bertie wrinkled his nose in disgust. “It’s my dad’s name.”

“It’s a very nice name?” Matt winced. Everyone had always told him he was a terrible liar, but he still felt the need to try if he thought it would make people feel better.

“It’s a stupid name.” Bertie laughed. “It’s why I like everyone calling me Bertie instead. Bertie and Mattie. It rhymes. Huh.”

“My brother would probably make a joke about that meaning we should be friends.” Matt told him seriously. “I don’t really understand his sense of humor, though… Lots of people have names that rhyme.”

“I mean, maybe it is a sign.” Bertie said excitedly.

“You think?” Matt asked. “I mean… you seem very friendly, Bertie. I wouldn’t want you to feel like you have to talk to me.”

“Ah, come on, this is fun!” Bertie said. “I wouldn’t be sittin’ here if I wasn’t enjoyin’ it.”

Matt giggled, shaking his head. “I guess that’s true.” He agreed, relaxing slightly. “How do you like being a Hufflepuff?”

“It’s good.” Bertie nodded vigorously. “Everybody’s nice here, except for some people, but I’ll help you steer clear of ‘em. You can tell which ones are the nasty sort.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Matt told him honestly. “I’ve never been a very good judge of character. My siblings are usually around to help me with it.”

“And now you’ve got a friend for when they’re not there.” Bertie grinned.

Matt blinked slowly, nodding after a moment of thought. “I guess I do.” He agreed with a smile.

“Isn’t that somethin’?” Bertie said, looking toward the fireplace. “A friend on your first day. Good way to start.”

“Yeah.” Matt nodded. “It’s a great way to start.”

* * *

Sarah sat on the bench outside the Transfiguration classroom, hanging her head as she tried to steady her breathing. Her vision blurred with tears, but she tried her best to hold them in, dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe when she thought no one was looking whenever one tore its way free. Her hands, when free, were clenched around the edge of the bench as she stared at the patterns in the floor.

Returning to school had been a mistake.

The whole class, she’d been focusing on where McGonagall was, tracking her by the sound of her voice, by the noises her shoes made as they clicked against the ground, and she hadn’t noted a single word of the lecture down. And if she started the term behind, she would end it behind, without a doubt.

There was no way she could catch up, not if she’d already missed the first lecture. Lectures were made to build upon each other, and she would obviously be missing some fundamental concept that would set her up for failure throughout the rest of her academic career. All of the work she’d done last year would be for naught--she knew you didn’t need to be smart or even particularly capable to graduate Hogwarts on time, so that wasn’t a concern--but Sarah had always been the smartest of her siblings, had grown used to that being her place.

And now, thanks to her negligence, she was at risk of losing it.

And over what?

Just because the sound of McGonagall’s voice set Sarah’s hands to shaking? Just because the thought of the word detention coming from her would surely be a death sentence handed down? Just because Sarah was too scared to think?

Pathetic, she thought, all pathetic reasons.

She shouldn’t have come back. Maybe her mother’s offers to homeschool her would’ve been better than this. She remembered, suddenly, crying all over her mother’s shoulder in the dormitory at the end of last term, her expression going stony and cold.

No. It wouldn’t have.

She hadn’t noticed the sounds of footsteps, but suddenly a pair of worn sneakers entered her line of sight. Sarah looked up, suddenly, to find Ginny standing in front of her with a concerned smile. “Why the long face, shortstack?”

“My face is just as long as it’s always been.” Sarah said, with a frown. “I can’t imagine why you’d ask me. I rarely look at it.”

“Maybe you should look at it more often, then.” Ginny suggested, plopping down on the bench beside Sarah. “Self-reflection is healthy, from what I’ve heard.”

“I get it.” Sarah said, forcing a smile. “The reflection, and the mirror. Very clever.”

Ginny snorted, nudging Sarah with her shoulder. “Come on, I came up with that one on the fly. That deserves some laughter, I think. At least a groan of dismay.” She said.

“It’s been a long day.” Sarah sighed. “Sorry. Nobody ever tells you the first day back will be this exhausting.”

“I’d say it gets better, but it really doesn’t.” Ginny shrugged. “Not right away, at least.”

“What was your second year like?” Sarah asked, wringing her hands in her lap. “I-- If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I don’t want to push. I really don’t.”

“Sarah, calm down. You can ask me anything. We’re friends, and it isn’t like you haven’t gone through hell this past year, too.” Ginny shrugged. “It was… weird, I guess? I couldn’t enjoy being here first year because of everything that happened, and even when it ended… Those were my only memories of Hogwarts, you know? So I spent most of my time looking over my shoulder. Even now I have a hard time going certain places in the castle without getting nervous.”

“Yeah.” Sarah nodded. “I just-- did you want to go to class? After everything? It just feels like…” She trailed off. “I can’t pay attention anymore, and every time McGonagall speaks, I just....” She shook her head. “I feel like I’m overreacting.”

“You’re not.” She tilted her head back, staring up at the ceiling. “And… you’ve got me. And Harry. People who understand what happened, how you feel… That’s better than nothing, right?” She stood, suddenly, dusting off her robes before offering Sarah her hand. “Come on.”

“It’s just… so much more happened to all of you.” Sarah said. “You-- You went through a lot, and Harry… With him, it’s been a new disaster every year, each one worse than the last. It feels silly, then, to be like this when barely anything happened to me.”

“It’s not like it’s a competition or anything.” Ginny told her, smiling softly, hand still outstretched. “Sure, some of us got possessed, and some of us got kidnapped, and some of us were tortured. We’re all going through different things and reacting differently, right? So what’s the point in comparing yourself to other people? You aren’t Ginny or Harry, are you?”

“No.” Sarah admitted. What Ginny said, intellectually, made sense-- Sarah was neither Ginny, nor Harry. But regardless of that, they had still seen more danger than her. Sarah had cried her way through a few detentions. Ginny had been possessed for a whole year by a madman, and so had Harry, in between flirting wildly with death and saving the world from certain destruction. Beside theirs, her problems were miniscule, barely worth caring about. Ginny was saying pretty words, but did they really mean anything? “I’m not you and I’m not him, by elimination. You’re here, and he’s too tall. It’d be like I was on stilts all the time. It doesn’t sound pleasant.” She smiled weakly.

“Well, you’ve never been fond of heights.” Ginny agreed with a hum. “Remember when you helped me steal Fred and George’s brooms from the shed, and I spent almost an hour convincing you just to get on one?”

“I’m surprised you remember that.” Sarah said.

“You should try out for Quidditch.” Ginny said, suddenly. “I know things are hard right now, and it’s hard to face your fears. But once you conquer one, suddenly it’s a lot easier to tackle the next one, and the next one, and the next one. So start small, and eventually you can work up to the bigger things.”

“I guess so.” Sarah said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But Ravenclaw’s got a keeper, and a reserve.”

“You’re better than either of them. Boys! Who needs them!” Ginny stuck out her tongue. “There’s no harm in trying, anyways. Even if nothing comes of it, it’ll still be fun.”

“I guess so.” Sarah nodded. “I could try. At the very least.”

“Sometimes trying is all anyone can ask of you.”

* * *

 

“Alright, Adi.” Harry whispered to his little brother, shooting a furtive glance over his shoulder at the entrance to the Slytherin common room. “How are we gonna play this?”

“Well, you shot down my idea of stealing Slytherin ties and just winging it.” Drew replied with a frown.

“What if we just run at it?” Harry asked. “I mean, or just shout slurs until we find the right one.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just hide and wait for a Slytherin to come by and say the password?” Drew suggested.

“You’re forgetting they know who we are.” Harry grimaced. “We’ll be hexed before we can draw our wands.”

“Okay, so we keep our wands out so we don’t have to waste time drawing them.” Drew shrugged.

“That… is not a bad point, actually.” Harry nodded thoughtfully. “Look at you, little brother, all grown up.”

He grinned up at Harry, puffing out his chest in pride. “I try my best.”

“Alright, so we should just--” Harry was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. He turned around to see Theodore Nott, tapping his foot against the stone floor. “Hey, uh, Theo, right?”

“If you’re trying to get in, you really should be a little more quiet about it.” Theodore said, shaking his head as he tried to fight back a smile. Harry was glad to see him smiling. He’d sunken into himself, over the last year, especially around school holidays. His father’s arrest must have been good for him, as awful as that sounded. Harry could empathize-- living with a threat hanging over you was no easy feat. Theodore Nott Junior, more than anyone else Harry could think of, deserved a break. “I’ll let you in.”

“Cool! I told you we should just wait for someone.” Drew told his brother, before turning to thrust his hand towards Theodore. “I’m Drew!”

“Nice to meet you.” Theodore said solemnly, shaking Drew’s hand. “You look just like your brother. Except for the eyes.”

“That’s how genetics work. We’re brothers.” Drew told him seriously.

“I wouldn’t know.” Theodore shrugged. “Haven’t got any.”

“Only sisters, then?” Drew grimaced. “That sounds terrifying.”

“None of those either.” Theodore said, letting out a soft chuckle. “Must be unimaginable to you, not having any at all.”

Drew stared up at the Slytherin in shock. “What do you do with all that free time?” He whispered in awe.

“Not much, now that the DA’s gone quiet.” Theo said, before looking up at Harry. “Will that be back?”

“As soon as I can get it off the ground.” Harry promised. “We need it more than ever, with…” He trailed off, remembering Drew was with them. “Thanks for offering to let us in.”

“Oh, right. I’ll get right to that.” Theodore said, a small smile appearing on his face. “The offer stands, though. Any time.”

The three boys approached the door leading into the Slytherin common room, and Theodore spoke a word under his breath that caused it to swing open.

“Now, Harry, I doubt I have to tell you this, but you’re…. Not particularly well liked here.” Theodore said carefully. “I’ll bring her out instead.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Harry nodded. “Adi, stay with me.”

“Aw, okay.” Drew looked rather disappointed at not being able to see the Slytherin common room, but he hung back with Harry without complaint.

After a few long minutes, which were mostly spent looking down the corridor in fear and trepidation, Theodore emerged from the common room with Anne at his side. He shut the door behind him, and motioned for the boys to follow him.

“Let’s find some place private.” Theodore said, already turning to lead the Potters further into the dungeons. “There are ears everywhere.”

“Hi.” Anne’s voice was neutral, though she eyed her brothers warily, as though they might turn on her at any moment. The bags under her eyes, which had been there for months, suddenly seemed much worse, and her hair was left down. It looked like she hadn’t bothered to brush it.

“Getting good sleep?” Harry asked, trying to sound casual. “I know the first few nights in the dorm are the worst. New people, all making noise… it’s a rough time.”

“I have you idiots for siblings, don’t I?” She rolled her eyes. “The noise isn’t what keeps me up.”

“Then what keeps you up?” Drew asked in confusion.

“Probably the roommates who want to murder me in my sleep.” She shrugged, obviously annoyed with her brother. “What do you guys want?”

“We want to talk to you, obviously.” Harry said. “‘Cause you’re my sister. And his too.”

“But what do you want?” She demanded testily. “I don’t have anything to tell you, so unless you came down here to make me hold hands and sing Kumbaya, you’re shit out of luck.”

“We’re worried about you!” Drew said, frowning down at his sister. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Don’t say shit.” Harry frowned. “Amma wouldn’t let you.”

“Well Amma’s not here!” She snapped. “She’s not here and I’m stuck in these grungy old dungeons all by myself, so I’ll say whatever I please!”

“Alright, alright.” Harry sighed, suddenly exhausted. “If that’s what you’re going to do, that’s what you’re going to do.”

“What is wrong with you?” Drew demanded. “I know things have been hard, and sad, and yeah it sucks that you’re in Slytherin, but whatever! We love you. We’re here to, like, make sure you’re okay, and stuff…”

“Oh my god, will you just shut up?” Anne raked a hand through her hair, throwing it into a disarray even Harry couldn’t have managed on one of his better days. “Just leave me alone!”

“Anju.” Harry said sternly. “We’re family. At least pretend to listen to us.”

“Listen to you? What are you saying?” She ground her teeth. “What do you want to say to me, Hari?”

“We want to tell you that, just maybe, you don’t have to hole yourself up in a common room of people who hate you! We’ll have you in ours, or we’ll find somewhere else for you to stay in the castle! It’s that easy!” Harry hissed. “As someone who’s also dealt with years worth of people who were supposed to be looking out for me despising my very existence, I’ve got solutions upon solutions that I’ve figured out, if you want them!”

“Well I don’t!” She shrieked, voice echoing off the dungeon walls. “I don’t want your stupid advice, and I don’t want your company, and I don’t want to be here! You can’t do anything to help me! I don’t need you to!”

“Sorry you had to see this, mate.” Harry said to Theodore. “I swear, she’s not always like this.”

“Nobody usually is.” Theodore shrugged. “C’mon, Anne, we should be going.”

“Don’t,” she hissed, “tell me what to do.”

“Fine.” Theodore said, slightly taken aback. “I’ll leave the three of you to it, then.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ve homework I should be doing.”

“We all do.” Harry said. “Come on, Adi. Let’s get moving.”

“But…” Drew glanced up at him with wide eyes.

“Be good, Anne.” Harry said, and as Anne opened her mouth to start yet another fight, he spoke again. “It’s just a suggestion.”


	5. Wizard Chemistry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, because of that, and the fact that I’m sure you’re all well past the basics, I thought we should start off with something a bit more advanced. A competition, to be precise! Today we’ll be brewing the Draught of Living Death... For those of you who need them, textbooks are in the back cupboard, and I’m sure you all know where the ingredients are. Collect them and head back to your stations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch tryouts are next week! The plot advances, a surprise is revealed, and the world continues turning despite every obstacle put in its way. We hope you enjoy the chapter and can't wait to see you next week!
> 
> -S&L

“I can’t believe we still have to take Potions.” Harry groaned, as he and Ron made their way down to the dungeons. 

“Correction, you have to take Potions. I never signed up.” Ron said smugly. “I’m only walking you two down here cause my next class isn’t for another hour.”

“I hate the fact that your mother listens to you.” Harry scowled, adjusting the strap of his bookbag on his shoulder. “Mine owled McGonagall the second the Slughorn hire was official to put Potions into my schedule. Said something about needing it in life or something. That’s what I’ve got her for, so I don’t have to know this stuff.”

“Your mom makes potions professionally, doesn’t she?” Ron frowned. 

“Ronald, she’s famous for it.” Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“Well, uh, she did, but then she had the triplets, so that made holding a job kinda tough. But then she decided to start a mail order Potions business in our backyard, which is why no one is allowed to touch the shed. And also why it has the ‘Don’t come in here or I will kill you’ sign on it.” Harry said. “She’s got a wall of knives in there. She says they’re for ingredients, but my dad says serial killers are always white, so we should keep an eye on it.”

“I can’t really dispute that.” Ron shrugged. “Mum’s got all these knives in the kitchen, and she starts waving them around if the twins act up while she’s cooking. Honestly, things are a helluva lot quieter now that they’ve moved out.”

“I mean, my dad’s not one to talk about knives, we’ve got the… the...” Harry paused, trying to remember what an aruvaal was called in English. “We own a sickle. Not the coin one, the knife one. My dad says my grandfather used it for gardening. I don’t know why he’d do that, but…” Harry shrugged. “Anyway, I don’t imagine my parents will let me move out ever. If my dad has his way, we’ll just be locked in there with him forever. He’s going to lose his mind when we’re all grown up. Already is, a little.”

“That’s a little worrying.” Hermione frowned. “Having all your children out of the house for the first time must be stressful, though.”

“I mean, he sees us every day.” Harry shrugged. “I dunno why he’s so torn up about it.”

“I suspect we won’t figure it out unless we have kids of our own.” Ron said thoughtfully. 

“My parents weren’t home often to begin with. Dentistry’s awfully time consuming.” Hermione said. “They were particularly upset about my absence the first two years, though. Sent me letters nearly every day. Individually.”

“Ah, so they’re dorks about writing, too.” Ron bumped his shoulder into hers, snickering. 

“I had to get it from somewhere, Ronald.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “My parents know the importance of prompt communication, and I do as well.”

“My parents communicate.” Harry said, beaming. “They’re good at that.”

“You sound way too proud about that, mate.” Ron said dryly.

“They’re usually too busy snogging to do much else.” Harry winced. They arrived at the door to the Potions classroom, and Harry took a deep breath. “Well, shall we? A world of torment awaits.”

“He doesn’t seem that bad.” Ron peaked through the doorway at the portly professor bustling around the front of the classroom. “Better than Snape, anyways.”

“Mum says he’s awful. I’ll take her word for it.” Harry said. “She’s often right about awful people.”

“Your mum doesn’t seem to like most people.” Ron pointed out.

“Well, most people are awful.” Harry countered, as they entered the classroom. 

“On the contrary, Mister Potter. I find that even the people with the worst disposition are simply diamonds in need of a bit of shining.” Slughorn called out with a smile. He spoke up again as Ron turned to duck out. “Ah, Mr. Weasley! Take a seat, my good boy. I have a book and an extra cauldron for you.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m not enrolled in this class.” Ron said.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Professor McGonagall stopped by to personally inform me of your late enrollment. Always room for another curious mind in my class!” He replied jovially. 

“Guess you’re stuck down here with us, Ronniekins.” Harry teased. 

“This is the worst first day ever.” He grumbled, collapsing into the seat beside Harry. 

“Nah, we’ve had worse.” Harry reminded him. “The first one was the only good one.”

“We were kids.” Ron grumbled. “And yet Harry still managed to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.”

“First year was rather uncomplicated.” Hermione said, unpacking her things onto her desk. “At least the beginning.”

“For five minutes.” Harry snorted. “And then everything went straight to hell.”

“Hello, students.” Slughorn stood at the front of the class, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “My name is Horace Slughorn, and I will be your new Potions teacher. I understand that it will take some time for us to get to know one another, but my hope is that we’ll all get along. Potions is as much an art as it is a science, and it’s my job to make sure all of you get through this year with as much knowledge as possible.”

The students were all glancing warily at each other, as though surprised by Slughorn’s cheer. After five years of dealing with Snape, it was to be expected.

“Now, because of that, and the fact that I’m sure you’re all well past the basics, I thought we should start off with something a bit more advanced. A competition, to be precise! Today we’ll be brewing the Draught of Living Death... For those of you who need them, textbooks are in the back cupboard, and I’m sure you all know where the ingredients are. Collect them and head back to your stations.”

“Not it.” Harry and Hermione chorused.

Ron got to his feet, grumbling as he shuffled across the classroom to gather supplies. He came back a few minutes later, setting everything down on their table, along with a slightly worn but well-cared for textbook. “Crabbe and Goyle aren’t here.” He told them, glancing across the classroom.

“Crabbe and Goyle can’t read.” Hermione said. 

“Amen.” Ron snorted.

“Infusion of Wormwood.” Harry read off the label of a brown glass bottle. “Remember when Snape tried to trick me about this one first year? Good riddance. I’m glad he’s in jail.”

“Snape going to Azkaban was the only decent part of last year, honestly.” Ron agreed, flipping through the textbook in order to find the proper set of instructions. 

“I’m glad he’s gone.” Hermione said. “Slughorn seems stuffy, but alright.”

“Who are you to be calling someone stuffy?” Harry snorted, as he added his powdered root of asphodel. The book said to stir clockwise twice, but Harry, never the best at directions, simply guessed which way clockwise was and stirred twice. His looked to be roughly the same color as Hermione’s so he was definitely on the right track.

“I’m not at all stuffy.” Hermione argued. “I’m relatable.”

“I definitely saw some of the firsties tearing up during your prefect speech.” Ron told her, peering into his cauldron. “You got intense.”

“Thanks, Ronald.” Hermione said dryly, as she added her sloth brain. “Whatever would I do without you?”

Harry stood as if frozen before his workstation, staring down his sloth brain with a disgusted expression on his face. 

“Here, Harry, let me get that for you.” Hermione picked it up and dropped it into his cauldron, and Harry let out a relieved sigh. “You’re welcome.”

“How does your mum do potions if you guys can’t touch animal products?” Ron asked curiously. 

“Just because we can’t doesn’t mean she can’t.” Harry shrugged. “Dad just makes her keep that stuff out back in the shed, and he makes up the healing potions for us kids when he needs to. Sends some fresh ones over to Pomfrey at the beginning of the school year.”

“I thought your dad sucked at Potions.” Ron said, glancing up from where he was chopping up something slimey. 

“By the English standard, yeah, not the best, but he knows what he needs to know.” Harry said. “My grandmother left behind some pretty good instructions. None of us can read ‘em except Dad, Matt, and Sarah, though, so it’s a bit of a loss.”

“And your sister is even worse at Potions than your dad.” Ron chuckled. 

“The way my dad tells it, my grandmother’s the only reason he and his dad got through Auror Training.” Harry laughed. “Might’ve been a bit illegal, but hey, they got the licenses.”

“Don’t let Hermione hear you.” Ron told Harry, over Hermione’s head. “She’ll try to retroactively have their licenses revoked.” 

“Grandfather’s dead, and my dad’s got no interest in joining the Aurors again, so it shouldn’t matter. He’d probably like someone to, so he doesn’t have the option anymore.” Harry shrugged. “He’s already got his Order of Merlin. Don’t know where he’s put it though. Probably in the attic collecting dust somewhere. Mum’s too.”

“Understandable.” Hermione said, slicing up her beans to release the juice. She poured the juice into the cauldron, watching the color change before slicing up a few more. “They don’t like talking about the war much, do they?”

“They’ll have to now.” Harry said solemnly. “The kids are starting to understand what’s going on. Sarah and Matt especially. Mum and Dad are trying to plan ahead while keeping their heads down so the Ministry doesn’t--”

Harry cut off as Slughorn wandered over, a grin on his face. “Ah, did I hear you mention your mother, Harry? A marvelous woman-- brilliant at Potions. My star pupil, back in the day! I do hope she’s kept up her practice.” He chuckled, peering into each of their cauldron’s and making a rather disturbed expression at the contents of Ron’s. “I’ll never know how your father managed to woo her, in the end.” 

“She’s hoping to return to Saint Mungo’s, from what she’s said.” Harry said. “I suppose it came down to strength of character, with Dad. Don’t tell him I said that, though, he’d get all emotional about it.”

“Well if there was ever a woman to be emotional over, it’d be your mother.” He laughed, clapping a hand to Harry’s shoulder. 

“I, uh, guess so.” Harry chuckled awkwardly, staring at Ron in disbelief.

Ron mouthed something along the lines of ‘what in the bloody hell’ as Slughorn wandered off to check on their classmates. 

“Is it just me or is he, like, creepily obsessed with your mum?” Ron whispered.

“According to Mum, that was a bit of a common theme, at Hogwarts.” Harry winced. “She told me to expect him to be strange, but that was… deeply uncomfortable.”

“And we’ve got a full year of that ahead of us.” Hermione said, stirring the cauldron seven times counterclockwise before turning down the heat. “That’s me done, then. How about you two?”

“Joy.” Ron mumbled, stirring his cauldron cautiously. 

Harry shrugged, putting down the ladle he’d been stirring with. “It’s a color. That’s enough for me.”

“Is it supposed to smell like fish?” Ron wondered, peering into his cauldron. 

“The book doesn’t say anything about smell.” Harry said, flipping through the pages to make sure. “Supposed to be pale pink.” He looked into his cauldron, realizing his was an unsightly shade of hot pink. “Whoops.”

“Perfect.” Hermione beamed. “Pale pink, spot on. Ballet slipper, to be exact.”

“That’s a color?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.” Hermione frowned. “There are shades within colors, Harry.”

“Uh, yeah.” Harry replied. “Bright pink and other pink, not ballet slipper.”

“Mine is red.” Ron mumbled, taking a concerned step back. “I’m no Seamus, but I don’t think anyone should get close to my cauldron.”

“Great.” Harry muttered, following Ron’s lead. “No prize for us, then.”

“Well, Hermione’s probably got this down.” He shrugged. 

“Time’s up, everyone! Best check the potions now, if we want you out of here on time.” Slughorn chuckled, making his way around the classroom. He summoned a leaf above each cauldron, watching carefully as it fell into the potion and offering commentary to each student before moving on to the next station. 

When he got to their station, he sniffed the air with mild confusion. “Is that… fish?”

“Damn it.” Ron muttered.

“Why, Miss Granger, this is quite possibly one of the most advanced potions I could have taught you, and you’ve managed to complete it with flying colors!” Slughorn said, watching with wide eyes as the leaf floated down to rest delicately on her potion. “Come, come!” He ushered her up to the front of the class.

Hermione, suddenly quite shy, made her way to the front of the class with her head down.

“Come on, Granger!” Harry yelled. “Take the credit you deserve!”

Hermione stood up a little straighter, and Harry grinned, nudging Ron.

Ron let out a loud whoop, chanting Hermione’s name loudly and nudging their classmates until several Gryffindors joined in.

“Now, of course, I believe a prize is in order.” Slughorn cleared his throat, reaching into the pocket of his robe and retrieving a small vial. “This, is Felix Felicis. Liquid luck. It takes a month to brew, and a single mouthful is enough to last several hours.” He pressed it into Hermione’s hands. 

“Perhaps,” Draco said snidely, “a more deserving student should receive such an important prize.”

“Nonsense, nonsense.” Slughorn waved him off. “Why, one of my best students was muggleborn!” He winked at Harry. 

Harry nodded slowly, looking at Hermione in mild terror. Hermione, to her credit, only maintained momentary eye contact, but made excellent usage of that time. 

“Well, that was awkward, to say the least.” Hermione said, upon returning to her seat.

“Awkward’s one word for it.” Harry winced. 

“Alright, everyone, clean up your stations and run off to your next class! Wouldn’t want to leave the other professors waiting, of course.” Slughorn chuckled from the front of the room, sending the students into a frenzy of packing. 

The three of them were halfway out the door when Slughorn called out. “Potter, Granger, if you could spare a minute?” Ron glanced at his friends and shrugged.

“I’ll, uh, wait in the hall, then?” 

“Yeah, we’ll see you out there.” Harry said, slapping Ron on the shoulder before jokingly blowing him a kiss. “Be good, Ronniekins.”

“Oh, how could I possibly breathe without you, dearest?” Ron pretended to swoon on his way out the door, a hand pressed against his forehead. 

“You two are disgusting.” Hermione grimaced. “Harry, come on, Professor Slughorn wants to speak to us.”

“She’s just jealous of how much you love me, Harry.” Ron called out.

“Down to my tiny little toes, Ron.” Harry said, placing a hand over his heart.

“They’re actually kind of weirdly long, dude.” 

“My only flaw.” Harry said. “And you’ve exposed it to the world.”

“Harry.” Hermione said impatiently.

“Fine, fine, let’s move.” Harry groaned, marching up to the front of the room, Hermione beside him. “Yes, Professor?”

“You know, back when I used to be a professor-- before I retired, that is-- I used to host a dinner every once in awhile for exemplary students. Your mother attended several times in her school career, my dear boy.” He settled down behind his desk. “I was thinking, now that I’ve been hired again, that I might start that tradition up again. I was wondering if the two of you would be interested?”

“You mean the Slug Club?” Harry asked.

He smiled fondly, leaning back slightly. “Ah, that is what they used to call themselves, isn’t it? Kids will be kids, of course.” He chuckled. “Oh, there were all sorts of students I taught. Why, I remember Regulus Black, back in my heyday. I was his head of house, you know, and I knew from the moment I met him that he was destined for something great. Yes, truly a life taken before his prime.” He seemed troubled for a moment. “I had recently heard that his elder brother passed, as well… Ah, but, you knew him, Harry! Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I should watch my mouth- it can be so hard dealing with the loss of a loved one, my boy.”

“Ah, yeah, it’s been tough on the family.” Harry scratched the back of his head. “Hit Dad quite hard. Mum too.”

“Of course, of course.” Slughorn nodded solemnly. “I won’t speak further of it-- I’d hate to bring up painful memories.”

“Yeah.” Harry said, averting his eyes. He had never wanted to leave a room more in his life, and he’d gotten trapped in the Chamber of Secrets before. “Painful memories.”

“I do hope to see the two of you at dinner, though. I’ll extend more specific invitations once I have the evening planned.” He smiled at them.

“Thank you, Professor. We’ll be sure to come by.” Hermione said, as graciously as she could. “And, just as a question-- would we be allowed to bring a friend?”

“Ah, who might this friend be?” Slughorn asked. 

“Ron Weasley, sir. He was at our table.” Harry piped up. “I’d feel awful if the two of us went without him.”

“Mm… The one who smelled like fish?” Slughorn said, a neutral expression on his face.

“He’s an incredible Quidditch player.” Hermione said quickly, anticipating backlash. “And within the top five in our year at Divination. He’s quite talented.”

“Just has a bit of trouble with Potions, is all.” Harry added. “Not everyone’s strong suit. I know it’s not mine.”

“Nonsense! You’re quite talented, my boy, you just need a bit of help in the right direction.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Of course your friend can attend. I’m sure he’ll be a lovely addition to the party.”

“Great.” Harry said brightly. “We’ll be waiting on that invitation, then!”

“Of course, of course. Give your mother my regards.” He said.

“For sure.” He nodded. “She did ask after you, so I’ll be sure to let her know you’re in good health.”

“Ah, that’s good to hear!” He puffed out his chest with pride. “It’s always good to keep in touch with my old students.”

“We’ll be late to class if we don’t hurry, Harry.” Hermione pointed out, and the two of them swept out of the room, finding Ron leaning against the wall just outside the door.

“I thought you’d gone and abandoned me.” He said, standing up. 

“We’ve done one step better.” Harry chuckled. “You’re coming to Slug Club with us.”

“Which one of you is my date?” He asked with a crooked grin. 

Harry and Hermione looked at each other for a second, both deep in thought, and Harry said “Hermione” just as she said “Harry”.

“Alright.” He laughed. “Both of you, then.”

“I suppose so.” Hermione said. 

“Sharing is caring.” Harry piped up. “C’mon, if we’re late for Defense, Dad’ll kill me as our first lesson.”

“That sounds like a good time to me.” Ron shrugged. “You should be used to it by now, anyways.”


	6. Tryouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, Harry.” She teased. “You’ve gotten popular lately.”
> 
> “Have I?” Harry asked, blinking in surprise. “Really?”
> 
> “Oooh, yeah.” Ron snorted, tossing his broom over one shoulder. “Those girls were practically dying, mate. Seems you’ve got a bit of a fanclub.”
> 
> “Not like I’m much to look at.” Harry laughed. “I mean, I look just like my dad, and it’s not like any of them would have a crush on my--” He trailed off, eyes wide in shock. “Oh my god. I’m only hot by association.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important takeaways: our daughters are kind, beautiful souls who we are going to ruin over the next arc, so please treat them softly (especially Sarah, who needs it now more than ever). Be gentle with them both. They are wonderful, we promise. 
> 
> This book is going to take a slight detour from Harry for a little while to focus on another subplot we've been playing around with for the next few weeks, so get excited! It's going to be fun, sad, and upsetting! See you next week with Chapter Seven-- Lockets Aren't A Girl's Best Friend. :)
> 
> -S&L

“It’s too early in the morning to have eyes.” Harry grumbled as he slid into his seat at the end of the table. “I don’t want to be awake anymore.”

“Couldn’t sleep? Ginny asked, looking up from her food with a bleary expression.

“I slept fine and I’m still exhausted.” Ron sat down heavily, reaching out to pile food atop his plate. “Is Hermione coming to tryouts?”

“She said she was.” Harry shrugged.

“She’s probably taking the time to sleep in a bit. She doesn’t have to be early like we do.” Ginny sighed.

“Harry might as well not have eyes.” Hermione said, whacking Harry with a rolled up newspaper. Harry was unsurprised to find that she’d collected Ron’s mail as well, and was using his copy for hitting. It was more than Ron would likely use it for, given how drowsy he looked. “I’ve been sitting here the whole time.”

“He did say it was too early for them.” Ginny pointed out.

“Shoulda known.” Ron groaned. He lay his head down on the table, hands grabbing for the long plate of toast that usually sat in the center of the table. His fingers caught upon the crust of a piece of bread, and he snatched it up, devouring it in a matter of seconds. Hermione frowned in disgust, and Harry followed his lead without breaking eye contact for a second. “No one else has the energy to read the newspaper this early in the morning.”

“Well, you should.” Hermione said, looking determinedly at the article she had been reading. Harry chuckled under his breath. “Reading the newspaper is an important way to stay aware of the world around you.”

“The world around us sucks. I’ll pass.” Ron shrugged, grabbing another piece of toast.

“It’s important to stay aware regardless.” Hermione sighed, flipping the page.

“What’s happening?” Harry asked.

“Umbridge is surprisingly not in jail.” Hermione frowned. “Despite your father’s best efforts.”

“Understandable.” Harry nodded, before returning to his breakfast. He hadn’t expected any differently, and neither had his father.

Holding Umbridge accountable was a task doomed to fail from the start, despite the mountains of evidence against her, and Harry privately thought that his father had only taken it on to give him something he could do to fix the whole mess. Uncle Remus had sounded both fond and exhausted when Harry had brought that up, saying that was simply James’ way of dealing with adversity, and that Harry should leave him to it. Harry knew his father certainly needed the time-- it was hard to convince a Wizengamot full of people that were indifferent to your existence at best and outright hated you at worst that direct harm done to your family was worth imprisoning a high level government official, with an equally high level security clearance and a known talent for vengeance, over.

Ron slammed his hands down on the table, swearing violently.

“What?!” Ginny snapped, eyes wide in horror. “After everything she did?”

“She’s white.” Hermione shrugged. “She’ll cry about how she didn’t really mean to hurt those children and how it isn’t reflective of who she is and they’ll release her claiming that the stress of being on trial was punishment enough.”

Ron ran a hand through his hair, a breath hissing out from behind clenched teeth. “Is there anything we can do? There’s gotta be something.”

“Awful to say it, but she’s going to be fine. It’s not going anywhere.” Harry shook his head. “Fudge’ll bail her out.”

Ginny let out a sharp breath. “Alright. Someone stop me before I decide to become a wanted fugitive.”

“You’ve legally got to be in school until the end of fifth year, so past this June, go for it.” Harry grinned, waggling his finger at Ginny, who stuck out her tongue. “If she’s still alive then. My mom might just go and do it, if no one else does.”

“I’ve always admired your mom.” Ginny told him seriously. “She has my full support.”

“She has Dad’s grudging support.” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “If she goes to jail, at least we’re all in school now. She signed a contract when the triplets were born saying the earliest she could go to jail over something was September second of this year. My dad had a real lawyer draw it up and everything. It’s hanging in the hallway.”

“She’d break out of jail in a week.” Ginny said.

“I’d give her a day, tops. Maybe less, if she can smuggle potions ingredients in.” Ron decided after a moment.

“You’re all assuming she’d go to jail.” Hermione chuckled. “She’ll disappear before they can book her.”

“That’s a good point.” Ginny nodded slowly.

“So, Quidditch tryouts!” Harry exclaimed, tired of discussing his mother’s future in prison. It would happen sooner or later, and he would think about it then. “We’re the last to go. Unfortunate, but scheduling happened how it happened.”

“Ravenclaw’s backup keeper is intense.” Ginny let out a low whistle. “I hope I never have to go up against her.”

“You watched Ravenclaw’s tryouts?” Harry frowned. “And isn’t their backup that little fourth year? Singh?”

“Not anymore. And we’ve gotta keep an eye on the competition, Harry.” She poked her fork at him. “You’re the Captain- shouldn’t you be on top of this sort of thing?”

“Yeah, but you’re not supposed to spy on people.” Harry sighed. “Takes the fun out of competition.”

“That isn’t what Oliver Wood would say.” Ginny said.

“Okay, but he was creepily obsessed with Quidditch.” Ron winced. “Pretty sure he was into it more than he was into our brother- which, also creepy, now that I’ve said it out loud.”

“Yeah. Ollie went to lengths that will no longer be gone to.” Harry said with a frown. He tried to chose his words carefully-- his previous unquestioning support for Oliver was well known, and still an easy target for jokes by the few remaining older members of the team, but he had to admit that, in retrospect, most of Oliver’s methods had been questionable at best. Hopefully he wasn’t doing the same with Puddlemere. “I love him, but there was no reason for our team to do half the things we did.”

“I’m just glad I didn’t join the team until after he’d graduated.” Ron said.

“One time we hid under the stands and watched Hufflepuff practice before a game.” Harry shuddered. “Hufflepuff. Sure, it was back when Diggory was captaining the team, so they were actually good, but even then!”

“I wonder how they’ll be this year, now that he’s graduated.” Ginny propped her head up on one hand.

“Not as good as us, that’s for sure. We’ve got the youngest seeker in a century, the Weasley that likes hitting things the most, and me.” Ron puffed out his chest proudly.

“Not like we’ve got to worry about Hufflepuff anyhow.” Harry said, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t run into Neville since school started, something that had probably been carefully orchestrated by their mutual friends. The one time Harry had asked Sarah about it, she’d glared at him until he’d given up and walked away. It hadn’t dawned upon him until later that she was likely out of the loop as well. “Last year, last year, I got all bothered about it, but now we can crush them.”

“Speaking of Hufflepuff, how’s Matt doing?” Ginny suddenly asked, as if sensing where Harry would turn the topic if left unchecked. “I talked to Sarah, but I haven’t been able to track down Matt or Anne.”

“Anne… Anne’s having a great time. In Slytherin. Where she is happy.” Harry said, trying to convince himself. “Matt’s made a friend, actually! First night of school itself.” He beamed proudly. “Some punk kid named Bertram. Can you imagine? Bertram. What a name.”

“That’s almost as bad as Ronald.” Ginny hummed.

“Shut up, Ginevra.” Ron snapped back at her.

“Your parents made a lot of interesting decisions.” Harry said.

“I got named Hermione.” Hermione grimaced. “All of you can shut up about ‘interesting’ names.”

“Harry is the only one here with a normal-sounding name.” Ron shook his head sadly.

“I mean, my parents didn’t try too hard. They just went for the most normal sounding names for all of us. Harry, Sarah, Anne, Andrew, Matthew… yeah.” Harry nodded. “Not too shabby.”

“I am both jealous and mildly disappointed, honestly.” Ginny said.

“Mildly disappointed?” Harry frowned. “I mean, our real names are way cooler. Even if I did just get my great-grandfather’s name by process of elimination or something like that. Tradition. That’s what I meant. Never trust a single word that comes out of my mouth.”

“Real names?” Ron cocked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing.

“You mean Harry isn’t your real name?” Ginny asked curiously.

“I gotta know. Is it worse than Ronald?” Ron leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the table.

“Oh.” Harry said. “I didn’t realize you didn’t know. I thought it was obvious.”

“No? I’ve only ever heard you get called Harry.” Ron said.

“And it’s not worse than Ronald.” Harry grinned. “Ronald is pretty bad.”

“I can’t disagree.” Ron said sagely.

“Well, what is it?” Ginny asked, leaning forward.

“Come on, guess.” Harry said eagerly. “It’s not that hard. I only go by Harry because it’s similar.”

“Is it… Harold?” Ginny winced. “Yeah, no. I got nothing.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say it’s not a white people name.” Ron shrugged. “I don’t know any in Tamil, so I’m out.”

Harry barely stifled his laughter at the thought. Harold? He father would rather die.

“Yes. My parents went through the trouble of calling me Harry in public for years, just because they didn’t want to own up to naming me Harold.” He gave up, banging his fist on the table as he howled with laughter. “Harold! Harold! God, wow!”

“Harold is a perfectly respectable name.” Hermione, who was equally amused, said. She bit her lip, looking pointedly at her plate. “For an old man.” She said, trying desperately not to smile. “Or-- or a hamster. Or--”

“No one at all?” Harry suggested, in between laughs.

“Stop disrespecting our culture.” Ron said, in a rather ridiculous exaggeration of his own accent.

“No.” Harry said.

“Why did you colonize us?” Hermione asked, slamming her fist down on the table. A few seats down the table, a first year jumped up with a squeak. “Answer that and then we’ll talk.”

“The nerve of children these days, asking valid question.” Ron sniffed, holding his finger under his nose as though to imitate the presence of a mustache.

“This generation.” Harry shook his head. “How dare they question their elders?”

“All I know is that I’m never trusting Hermione with a hamster.” Ginny said.

* * *

“Alright!” Harry said, trying to sound imperious. All the whispering around him immediately ceased. “Phew, sorry, didn’t mean to scare anybody there. Just wanted to get moving while we’ve still got the pitch.” A few soft laughs bubbled up from the crowd, and Harry grinned in relief. “None of you are guaranteed a place on the team, even if you’ve been on it before. Please try your bests and put forth your best effort. Even if you don’t make the team, you can still be selected as a reserve, and, worst comes to worst, you may get to play a game or two. God willing, our reserves stay benched and spend a year learning so they can try and grab an open spot next year, but we’ll take anything as it comes. Any questions?”

One of the second years raised his hand, shifting nervously from side to side. “Uh, will we have to fly? A lot, I mean. Will we have to fly a lot?”

Harry frowned in confusion. “This is a Quidditch tryout. You’ll be expected to prove your worth at whatever position you’ve decided to try out for. Have any of you not settled on a position yet? Raise your hands if you’re not sure whether you’re going out for Chaser, Beater or Keeper.”

Several hands shot into the air.

“Okay.” Harry nodded slowly. “Why don’t the rest of you separate out by position? Chasers, to the left with Ginny. Keepers, to the right with Ron. Beaters, stay where you are now. If you’re undecided, go on off to the stands so you can watch the drills, and we’ll do a second round of tryouts with you, once this bunch is done!”

The undecided students quickly cleared off the pitch, arranging themselves on the bleachers and jostling each other for a better view of Harry.

“Alright, we seem to have two Keeper potentials and an even number of Beaters, so that seems like a good plan for a scrimmage.” Harry called out. “Ron, take the left set of hoops. And…”

“McLaggen.” The other boy said, smiling in a way that Harry supposed was meant to be charming. He looked like a right berk. Harry was tempted to spit on his shoes, but stopped himself, for the honor of the team.

“Right, McLaggen, take the right.” Harry said. “Beaters, count off.” He pointed to each of the beaters in turn as they each said their number. “Right. Odds are with Ron, evens with McLaggen. I’ll be sending two of you up at a time for each team, and I’ll shuffle around the pairings as I see fit. Be ready to kick off at any time.” He received a steady stream of less than enthusiastic nods. “Now, Ginny, what do you think about the Chasers?”

“Well, Captain, we’ve got twelve kids trying out.” She said, tossing her ponytail over one shoulder. “I’d say we put six on each team and rotate them with each set of beaters.”

“Excellent.” Harry grinned. “Starting Keepers are Weasley and McLaggen. The first four Beaters to count off, go to your sides. For the Chasers… to Ron’s side, Weasley, Bell, and Robins. To McLaggen’s side, you three, the ones that are trying to leave! Well, what are you waiting for? Get on up there!”

At his signal, the starting lineups kicked off, and Harry released the Bludgers from the trunk he and Ron had lugged out before tryouts had started, tossing the Quaffle straight up as hard as he could. Ginny immediately caught it, making short work of charging toward McLaggen and putting one through the hoops. She knew just as well as Harry did that her place on the team was safe, but that was Ginny’s way, always working hard for things regardless of whether they were guaranteed or not.

That was something Harry could respect.

He switched the Beaters and Chasers out every so often, making notes about each player and points they could improve upon in the small notebook Hermione had pressed into his hands as they left the Great Hall. After everyone had gotten a few shifts in and even the veterans were beginning to look sweaty and winded, he blew the whistle he’d found in the bottom of his trunk to call them back down.

“Well done!” Harry said. “Well done to all of you! You all put up an impressive showing, and I’ll have regulars and substitutes up in the Common Room by the end of the week! You should all be very proud of yourselves.” He watched fondly as a few of them slapped each other’s shoulders or ruffled each other’s hair. “Hit the showers, folks. Alright, group two, are you all ready to--” He said, looking over his shoulder, to find a mass exodus beginning, all of the people who’d declared themselves undecided running for the castle like their lives depended upon it. “Alright, field’s a little smaller then for you lot. Congrats and well done. We’re finished here, I think.”

Hermione walked over from the stands, a cheeky smile on her face.

“So, Harry.” She teased. “You’ve gotten popular lately.”

“Have I?” Harry asked, blinking in surprise. “Really?”

“Oooh, yeah.” Ron snorted, tossing his broom over one shoulder. “Those girls were practically dying, mate. Seems you’ve got a bit of a fanclub.”

“Not like I’m much to look at.” Harry laughed. “I mean, I look just like my dad, and it’s not like any of them would have a crush on my--” He trailed off, eyes wide in shock. “Oh my god. I’m only hot by association.”

“Now he’s getting it.” Hermione said proudly. “I knew there were brain cells between those giant ears.”

“Well,” Ron hummed thoughtfully, “it’s a good association.”

“Ron!” Harry exclaimed. “Quit being creepy!”

“Aw, babe, you know you’re first in my heart.” Ron said, pressing a hand to his chest.

“You’re both disgusting and I hate you.” Hermione declared. “Now go shower, Ron. You smell terrible.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ron laughed, winking at Hermione before trotting towards the locker room.

“Can we kill him?” Hermione asked.

“No.” Harry said. Hermione turned to him, frowning. “Then I’d have to put McLaggen on the team.”

* * *

Anne could confidently say that she hated many things. She hated stupid people. She hated boys, because they were stupid people. She hated transfiguration, and people putting things into pastries that had no right being in pastries, like meat. She hated whoever had invented meat pies.

Anne especially hated the Slytherin common room, which lead her to wandering around the castle in the hours between her final class and whenever she decided to go to sleep. She wasn’t sleeping much these days. She continued to trudge down the hallway, barely glancing at the tapestries and suits of armor lining the walls. She was exhausted and hungry.

Had she missed dinner again?

She couldn’t remember.

Sarah turned the corner just ahead, frantically arranging a stack of papers she held in her arms as she walked. She looked up from her work mere steps away from Anne and stopped in her tracks, a frown on her face. Her shoulders drew up a little closer to her ears, and she clenched her jaw, as if anticipating a yelling match.

Anne stared up at her, brown eyes blinking slowly as she took in her sister’s tense posture.

“You okay?” She asked, frowning slightly.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. School stress.” Sarah shook her head, regarding Anne carefully. “You okay? You’re looking pretty exhausted.”

“Haven’t been sleeping well.” Anne admitted, rubbing at one of her eyes. “Kinda hard, in a dorm with all of those Slytherins.”

“I can only imagine.” Sarah sighed, shaking her head. “You can come up with me, you know. If you want. There’s space in my dorm.”

Anne eyed her sister suspiciously for a moment, but seemed to find it took too much energy. “I’ll be fine.” She said, shrugging. “It’s not that bad.”

“You’ve left the necklace home.” Sarah frowned.

“Huh?” Anne’s hand flew up to her neck, which was free of the heavy golden locket she had been wearing since last Christmas. “Oh. I must have forgotten it after I took a shower.” She mumbled.

“You seem in better spirits without it.” Sarah remarked. “Maybe the weight was bothering you. I know Madhu-- err, Matt gets upset by those things.”

“No, I’ve always worn jewelry.” Anne said, running a hand through her hair. It hung loose around her shoulders, despite the fact that she usually wore it in braids or pigtails or some other hairstyle. She hadn’t had the energy to do it lately. “Amma and Appa think it’s trauma or something. They also think I’m deaf, probably, because they don’t whisper very quietly.”

“I don’t think they understand what the volume of a whisper should be.” Sarah said. “It’s their main fault.”

“They have many.” Anne agreed, letting out a quiet giggle. “Are you sure you’re alright? It’s kind of late to be wandering around.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Sarah shrugged. “Thought I’d find my favorite sister.”

“I’m your only sister.” Anne said automatically.

“No competition makes for an easier win.” Sarah reminded her. “Sometimes the best playing field is a straight line.”

“Ah, and thus I remember you’re a Ravenclaw.” Anne rolled her eyes, though there was a fond look tugging at the edges of her expression. “And I’m a Slytherin, so I guess I have to agree with that sort of underhanded logic.”

“You never were like them. Underhanded, I mean. You were never shy about showing off what you had your hands in.” Sarah said. “But the Hat wouldn’t put you somewhere you weren’t meant to be.”

Anne’s expression crumpled for a moment, but she simply nodded. “Right. I guess not.” She replied. “I’ll get used to it eventually, right?”

“It’s hard. Being without the boys.” Sarah mused aloud. “But you’ll learn. With time, you’ll find friends who are much less trouble than them, and much less loud.” She smiled, though it was small and hesitant. “It isn’t so bad, here. After you get used to it, it isn’t so bad. I promise.”

Anne nodded slowly, though she still seemed rather uncertain. “I guess so. I’ve only been here for a little while. Can’t drop out till the first break, at least.” She mused. “Not that I will. If you can deal with it, I can too.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Sarah patted Anne’s head. “You’ll manage better than I did.”

Anne ducked away from her hand with a snort and a small smile. “Don’t get sappy on me now, Charu. I’ll have to take you to the Hospital Wing.” She warned.

“What for?” Sarah asked. “Being a good sibling?”

“For your sudden development of feelings.” Anne said, reaching out to tug a pile of papers from Sarah’s impressive stack. “I’ll help you take these up to your dorm room, so I can continue to monitor your condition.”

“Give that back, it’s homework.” Sarah said, annoyance seeping into her voice. She snatched the papers back, laying them neatly atop the pile. “Can’t go to class without it.”

“Are you doing the entire semester’s homework in one go?” Anne asked, looking a bit surprised at the sudden retrieval.

“Nothing wrong with getting ahead.” Sarah said, her frown returning.

“It was just a joke.” Anne mumbled, awkwardly tugging at a strand of red hair. “No need to get defensive about it.”

“You’re right.” Sarah exhaled harshly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have reacted so badly. You were just having fun. Sorry.”

“I was… trying to help you carry them.” Anne mumbled, ducking her head and forcing the words out. “Cause I want to go up to your dorm, and not back into the dungeon. If your offer still stands.”

“I… I don’t listen well sometimes. I’m sorry.” Sarah said, shifting her papers into one arm, before placing her free hand on Anne’s shoulder. “That’s my fault, not yours. Come along, then. I’ll be glad to have some company.”

“You sure?” Anne asked hesitantly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get your books first? Some clothes?” Sarah asked. “If we’re sneaking you out of your dorm, we might as well do a proper job of it.”

“And here I thought you always followed the rules.” Anne said, attempting to sound cheerful, though it came out incredibly strained.

“Not always.” Sarah said, averting her eyes. She tugged her sleeves down further out of instinct. “Some rules aren’t worth following.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since we were little.” Anne agreed.

“Well, it just took awhile to sink in.” Sarah smiled weakly. “Come on then. Time to show those snakes who’s really in charge.”

The sisters retraced Anne’s steps through the castle in comfortable silence, and Sarah pretended not to notice Anne’s shoulders tensing up the further they wandered into the dungeons. Eventually, they stopped next to a patch of wall that looked incredibly similar to every other patch of wall they had passed thus far.

“Superiority.” Anne recited in a disgruntled voice. The wall slid away, revealing the common room. It had a low ceiling, from which hung glowing green lights, and wide windows that looked out into the dark water of the Great Lake. The cold, wet feeling that came with being stuck in the bowels of the dungeon was abated slightly by the roaring fire against the far wall, around which several Slytherins were lounging.

Some of them glanced up when the pair entered, and a low whisper like the hiss of a snake slithered through the common room. Several of the upperclassmen shot nasty looks their way, and someone with a prefect badge pinned to his robes immediately got to his feet, storming over.

“She can’t be in here.” He snapped, glaring down at Anne. “I might have to deal with allowing you inside, but there is absolutely no way I’m about to let her--”

“We aren’t staying.” Anne snapped, eyes narrowing dangerously. “We’ll be gone in a few minutes. I just need to grab something from my dorm.” She grabbed Sarah’s arm, pulling her away before the prefect could protest.

“Sorry.” She muttered, ignoring the rest of her housemates. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Sarah kept her eyes trained forward as they walked down the hall to Anne’s dormitory. “Just like you said. They’re a little disconcerting.”

“That’s an understatement.” She mumbled, slipping into the dormitory. Several of the other first years were already asleep, so Anne made quick work of pulling her backpack out of the trunk at the end of her bed and shoving some clothes inside. It was the bag she took on family trips, which James had charmed to have extra space while also weighing less, so there was plenty of room for the Raggedy Anne doll she carefully tucked inside. She paused, briefly, glancing at her bedside table, where she’d left the locket and the charm bracelet Lily had given her for her tenth birthday.

After a moment of hesitation, she picked up both and shoved them into her backpack.

“That’s all?” Sarah asked, looking over Anne’s bed. It was a four-poster bed with heavy green curtains drawn shut around it, and what appeared to be a shelf embedded in the stone at the headboard. There was a stuffed tiger peeking out from beneath one of the pillows. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’d rather get out of here.” She whispered, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

Sarah nodded, turning to face the door. “Me too.”


	7. Lockets Are Not A Girl’s Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s like a geode.” Matt said sagely.
> 
> “How?” Sarah asked. “Because we wanna break him open?”
> 
> “No!” Matt gasped. “Because he’s beautiful on the inside but it’s hard to see from the outside! I don’t wanna break him! I love him!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the angst arc begins! The next few chapters are going to be wild, so buckle yourselves in. Here begins the crap tornado to end all others. Get ready for all your favorite characters to be sad!
> 
> See you all next week with consequences to all of this week's actions!
> 
> -S&L

“Remember, we’ll be going down to breakfast in five minutes.” Sarah said, flipping a page in her Transfiguration textbook while she scribbled down the tail end of a thought. “Be ready. You’ll need the full time to eat. I’m vetoing any requests to go later in advance.”

Anne sat across from her on the bed, running a brush through her hair. “That’s fine, I’m already dressed.” She shrugged. “Do you mind braiding my hair for me?”

“Uh.” Sarah paused for a second, staring down at her notes. “You sure you can’t?”

Anne glanced up at her, her smile shading towards a smirk. “I can, yeah. I forgot how terrible you are at stuff like this.”

“I’m not terrible.” Sarah protested. “I can braid hair.”

“Yes, but you can’t do it well.” Anne reminded her. “And in the end, that’s the important part.”

“Other things are important too, Anne.” Sarah said grumpily.

“Sure,” Anne agreed mildly, “but looking nice is pretty fun. C’mere, I’ll braid yours too.”

“Fine, if you insist.” Sarah said, making a show of accepting. She always did enjoy the moments Anne chose to spend with her, and always had. They had little in common, but it never seemed to matter then. “What are your plans for today?”

“Uh, go to class?” Anne suggested, scooting forward to begin a tight french braid. Sarah’s hair was too short for anything else.

“I thought that was understood.” Sarah frowned. “Have you not been going?”

“Um.” Anne winced. “Maybe?”

“It will affect your education, you know. Missing these early classes will cause trouble later.” Sarah said. “What’s bothering you?”

Anne didn’t answer right away, choosing to stare intently at the braid she was winding her sister’s hair into. “I just… I’ve been angry, lately. Angrier than normal. And tired. I’ll forget things, and sometimes I won’t even realize I haven’t gone to class until it’s nearly over, anyways, so what’s the point?” She mumbled. “I don’t want to be around people.”

“I understand.” Sarah nodded. “People are exhausting.”

“Yeah.” Anne said, seemingly relieved with Sarah’s understanding. “They suck. I’d rather just explore the castle.”

“There’s definitely a lot to see.” Sarah nodded. “We’ve been exploring. Kyung and I. We’re thinking of making a map.”

“A map of Hogwarts?” She asked, tying off the end of Sarah’s short braid. “Wouldn’t it be kinda hard, since the staircases and hallways like to rearrange themselves?”

“That’s why it’d be a magic map, silly.” Sarah said. “To account for those things.”

“I guess if anyone could figure it out, it’d be you two.” Anne shrugged. “More brains than you know what to do with.”

“I figured that if Appa won’t share his, I might as well make my own.” Sarah said. “He’s probably hiding it so we won’t find it.”

“If anyone is gonna find it, it’ll be Mad- Matt. Since he’s always climbing around in the attic, you know?” Anne hummed. “What about you, though? Didn’t Appa give you the invisibility cloak?”

“Yes.” Sarah nodded. “It’s in my trunk. Haven’t had the time to go exploring much this year.”

“Well, you seem to be studying a lot more.” Anne said, leaning over to glance at Sarah’s transfiguration notes.

“This is not a lot.” Sarah said. “This is just an average amount of work for one class.” She paused, horrified. “How much work have you been doing?”

“The only time I can get any work done is in the library, and I always end up falling asleep in there.” Anne admitted.

“The library’s quite engaging.” Sarah remarked. “I can’t imagine why you’d fall asleep.”

“Cause sleeping in the dungeons doesn’t seem to appeal to me.” Anne deadpanned.

“I don’t see how see how it would appeal to anyone.” Sarah shook her head. “Come on, we’re getting late.” She checked her watch. “We won’t have any time now. Get up, get up.” She shoved her notes haphazardly into her bookbag and slung the strap over her shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah.” She finished tying off the end of her braid and fished around in her bag for a moment. Anne quickly fastened her charm bracelet on, and then slipped the locket over her head. “I’m coming.” She stood up, grabbing her backpack and trotting after her sister.

“You’ve got everything for school, right?” Sarah asked, as they made their way down the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room. “Quills, ink, ballpoint pens that they think we don’t have but we definitely have?”

“I’m good, don’t worry.” Anne rolled her eyes, jumping over the last step.

“Sarah, where were you last night-?” The sisters glanced up to find Kyung standing by the door, blinking owlishly down at Anne. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hi.”

“With my sister, obviously.” Sarah said. “I thought you’d assume as much, with her being here.”

“Uh, yes. It took me a moment.” He said, looking at Sarah in mild confusion. “I did not realize she spent the night.”

“I had to monitor Sarah’s condition.” Anne replied tonelessly.

“What?”

“She’s joking.” Sarah clarified. “I was nice to her yesterday. She thinks I’m dying.”

“I am inclined to agree with her.” Kyung shrugged. “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast.” Sarah agreed. “We’re running out of time.”

“We have an hour.” Kyung said, in a tone of voice reserved for someone who had repeated themselves countless times.

“Yeah, Sarah, calm down.” Anne said.

“An hour doesn’t account for contingency plans.” Sarah muttered.

“What are you planning for?” Anne asked incredulously.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sarah shrugged. “Can we get going, please?”

“You get used to it.” Kyung assured Anne, who frowned up at him.

“I’ve known her longer than you have.” She said irritably, turning to head out the door.

“She’s right, you know.” Sarah said, extending her hand as if to pat Kyung on the shoulder before drawing it back and forging on ahead toward the door.

Kyung shrugged, following after her. “Yes, but you have always told me you do not get along with her.” He reminded her quietly.

“I never meant to make you think she was downright awful.” Sarah frowned. “She’s just… very different from me. Leads to conflicts of opinion often, but it doesn’t mean we dislike each other.”

“I do not mean to be argue… arguing… a word like that.” Kyung let out a huff of frustration. “And I do not wish to offend, but… from what I have seen, she is… Bad.”

“That describes half my family.” Sarah snorted. “Can’t afford to be picky.”

He muttered something in Korean before shaking his head. “It is too early for English,” he decided. “I will figure it out later.”

“Are you guys coming?” Anne turned to look at them, hands on her hips. “I thought you were paranoid about being late, Sarah.”

“We’ll be fine.” Sarah said sharply. “Kyung has a point.”

Kyung glanced at Sarah, but remained silent. Anne shook her head and turned to head down the stairs. “Whatever.”

“She’s just in a mood.” Sarah said. “I would be too, if I had to go sit with the Slytherins again.”

“I suppose.” Kyung agreed reluctantly.

“Anne, you know you can sit with us.” Sarah offered, as they entered the Great Hall. “Nobody would mind.”

“You already let me sleep in your room.” Anne said. “I don’t need you to keep babying me all day, Sarah.”

“I’m not babying you.” Sarah frowned. “Forgive me for being worried for your safety.”

“I’ve been dealing with it since school started.” Anne said with a scowl. “If I’d known I was giving you a free pass to hover, I wouldn’t have accepted your offer.”

“I’m sure you can deal with it.” Sarah said. “That doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not allowed to sit with you anyways.” She said. “So leave me alone, already.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone.” Sarah said, horrified. “Do you really think that I’d do that?”

“It’s not like you’ve ever cared before now.” Anne snapped. “Maybe you should focus on not being such a mess yourself before you decide to make me your pity-project.”

“You’re not a pity project, you’re my sister.” Sarah said. “Or did you forget the lecture about sticking together entirely?”

“Oh, please, he was just saying that because he was sick of dealing with me all summer!”

“If anything, he had the most patience of all of us.” Sarah snapped. “You can say whatever you want about me, but don’t act like he and Mum haven’t tried their best to keep us all safe.”

“Yeah, well, they’ve done a right good job of it, haven’t they?” Anne rolled her eyes.

“They’ve done their best. It’s not their fault Voldemort keeps turning up.” Sarah hissed. “They’re just as clueless about this as we are and they’re managing to keep all five of us alive. That’s better than any one of us could have done alone.”

Anne visibly flinched at Voldemort’s name before throwing her hands up. “Forget it! Just forget it, I’m not hungry anymore.” She said, turning on her heel and marching out of the Great Hall.

“Sarah.” Kyung’s voice was soft as he reached out to touch her arm.

“Don’t.” Sarah glared at him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Okay.” He said, retracting his arm. “Are you alright? We can… we can leave, if you need.”

“I don’t need this right now.” Sarah spat. “Don’t look for me.” She turned on her heel and strode out of the hall.

Kyung stared at her retreating form, hand slowly dropping back to his side.

* * *

“He made a friend!” James exclaimed. “All by himself! He didn’t need help! He just got out there and made a friend. I’m so proud of him.”

Lily’s head laughed from the fireplace, her hair blending in perfectly with the surrounding flames. “Knowing Madhu, I’m guessing the other boy made friends with him, and not the other way around, dear.”

“He has a friend.” James said excitedly. “Doesn’t matter, I mean, Sirius made friends with me. And so did Remus, actually. And so did you. I think there’s a pattern here. He’s blowing me off to hang out with his friend, Lily! Peak independence!”

“Well, you and Madhu have always been similar.” Lily said fondly. “And from his letters, it sounds like he still spends at least two days a week hanging out in your office.”

“Two days is less than every day.” James said. “And he’s brought his friend along one time. And therein lies the problem.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We have to ruin Matt’s first independent friendship.”

“Oh no. No, no, no. James Potter, you leave that boy alone.” Lily said sternly. “If you wreck this, I swear I will file for divorce.”

“Lily! You don’t understand!” James dragged his hands down his face. “It’s Bertram Aubrey’s kid! I mean, I knew the boy was at Hogwarts, and Bertram isn’t an awfully common name, but god, of all the kids to make friends with… Bertie isn’t a bad kid, but the minute that boy tells his dad about Matt, it’s over. We have to kill it before Matt gets rejected so that he still tries to make friends!”

“They’re Hufflepuffs, you idiot.” Lily rolled her eyes. “If it was that easy to break up their friendship, they would be Slytherins.”

“Well, guess who was a Slytherin! Bertram Fucking Aubrey!” James said. “You were there, how could you not realize what a terrible deal this is?”

There was suddenly a knock from the open door, and James turned to find a very confused Kyung staring at him. “... Should I come back later?”

“No, no, this is fine.” James straightened up, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. “Uh, sorry. For anything you might have heard. In general.”

“Right.” Kyung glanced to the fireplace, raising a hand in greeting. “Hello, Mrs. Potter.”

“Hi, Kyung. Sorry- I’ll leave you boys to it.” Lily’s laugh faded as she pulled away from the fireplace, being replaced by normal flames.

“So. Questions about the lesson?” James asked, turning to Kyung.

“No.” Kyung stepped inside with a frown. “You should talk to Sarah, sir.”

“Is something the matter?” James asked. “Other than, you know, everything?”

“She is not doing well, Professor.” Kyung said, clasping his hands behind his back as though giving a presentation. “I… I am worried about her. And I know she will not tell you about these things, so I thought I should.”

“You’re a good friend, Kyung.” James nodded.

“I… no, sir, she asked me not to tell.” He winced. “But it has gotten to the point where she will no longer speak to me about what is bothering her. So I thought I would ask you to check on her.”

“Sometimes you need to tell, Kyung.” James sighed. “Sometimes your friends are in too deep and you need to take the first step for them. Thank you. For coming to me. She’s lucky to have you.”

Kyung frowned down at the floor, eyebrows drawing together beneath his bangs. “Yes, sir.” He said hesitantly. “I… do not want her to isolate herself. I might be her only friend, but she is my only friend as well. I am doing my best.”

“It’s hard to keep track of someone who does not want to be watched.” James said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m beginning to think I made a bad decision, with her.”

“You mean the cloak.” Kyung said, after a moment.

“I knew it was the two of you.” James chuckled. “The rest of the staff is still trying to puzzle out who was in the Restricted Section so much last year. I’ve been covering for you both, so don’t worry, but I’m glad to have the facts there.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kyung murmured. “It is making it harder to find her, when she is upset.”

“You don’t have to call me sir, you know.” James said. “I’m not that old.”

“You are my Professor.” He shrugged. “It is habit. I apologize.”

“I’ll call her in to talk, and I’ll keep you in the loop. She’s… She had a very tough summer, and it’s hard to stop her when she’s set her mind on something, you know?” James shook his head. “Her mother’s daughter, that one.”

“Her mother is an admirable woman, from what I have heard.” He replied. “And you are an admirable man. Thank you for listening to me, si- uh. Professor.”

“No problem.” James said. “Don’t--” He took a deep breath. “She needs friends around her, right now. It’s a lot to ask, of a child your age, but don’t leave her alone if you can avoid it.”

“I would never.” He said gravely. “Sarah is my best friend. I will do everything I can for her.”

* * *

Matt had never had a good sense of direction. Lily had once joked that between his penchant for tucking himself away in odd corners and his ability to get lost in the supermarket, one day he would get lost and never find his way home. He had cried.

Hogwarts was the perfect place to go missing, if one was looking to do such a thing. Between the constantly shifting floorplan and the countless hidden rooms, it was exceedingly easy to get lost. Matt had taken to carrying the map his father had given him around at all times, just in case.

He had it in front of him now, checking every now and then to make sure the unfamiliar hallway in front of him would eventually lead to the Astronomy Tower. It was about an hour till curfew, and several more until the upperclassmen would have to wake up for their astronomy class.

Eventually, he found the correct staircase and quickly ascended.

The astronomy tower was open to the chilly air, and he tugged his robes more securely around himself as he whispered a quick, “mischief managed,”.

He stepped forward, peering around the seemingly empty room for a moment. “Charu? I know you’re up here.”

He heard a quiet rustling noise.

“Uh, Appa gave me that map.” He said, waving the now-blank parchment in front of himself. “I can leave, if you really want me to, but… Um… Maybe you want some company?”

“Madhu, it’s late.” Sarah said, sounding distinctly as if she’d been crying. She sniffled quietly and then continued to speak. “Go back to bed. You need to be up early in the morning. You have Defense first, and Appa won’t be happy if you sleep through. You know what he does to the kids who sleep in his class.”

“Appa knows I’d cry if he did that, and if I cry in front of the other students, I won’t be able to stop.” Matt said sagely, following the sound of her voice with one hand outstretched. “Aren’t you cold?”

“I’m alright.” There was another rustle of fabric, and the invisibility cloak fell away. But for her red eyes and the slight catch in her voice, no one would’ve known Sarah was upset at first glance. “Just needed a break from everything, that’s all. And if you’ve decided to join me, well, I can’t very well pass up some time with my favorite brother, can I?”

“Especially when your favorite brother brings tea.” He said, sitting down beside her and pulling one of Lily’s old thermoses from his messenger bag. “I know I’m not really your favorite, but that’s okay.” He whispered, holding it out to her.

“Who would be, if it weren’t you? The one who’s always almost dying? The one with rocks for brains?” Sarah asked, accepting the thermos gratefully. “You’re the safest choice.”

Matt frowned uneasily as he tucked the edges of the invisibility cloak around Sarah’s shoulders. She looked a bit odd, with only a head, but he also didn’t think to bring an extra blanket. “Adi doesn’t have rocks for brains.” He said.

“He tries, I’ll give him that.” Sarah said. “And works quite hard. But there’s an element of things working out that’s just been… missing with him, especially in school.”

“Being bad at school doesn’t make you dumb.” Matt mumbled. “You’re good at it all on your own, but not everyone is like that. Adi is just better at different things, is all.”

“Like Quidditch.” Sarah said, a hint of a smile on her face. “Between you and me, I can’t wait to watch him play.”

“He’s gonna be great.” Matt agreed with a small smile. “He’s already getting excited about tryouts next year. Are you excited to play against him?”

“Very.” Sarah nodded. “It’s the whole reason I tried out. Everyone’s convinced it’s about Hari Anna, of course.” She rolled her eyes. “As if we don’t have motivations that don’t include him.”

“It’s cause he’s the oldest, I think.” He shrugged. “So people have had more of a chance to get to know him.”

“What do they know?” Sarah snorted. “Nothing good.”

“He’s like a geode.” Matt said sagely.

“How?” Sarah asked. “Because we wanna break him open?”

“No!” Matt gasped. “Because he’s beautiful on the inside but it’s hard to see from the outside! I don’t wanna break him! I love him!”

“You can love someone and break them.” Sarah said. “Look at our parents.”

“That’s called abuse, Charu. Amma and Appa love each other.” He scrunched up his face the same way Lily did when she was thinking too hard. “They… help each other be the best they can be.”

“Debatable.” Sarah frowned. “I’m really hoping this isn’t their best.”

“It’s a stressful time for everyone.” He shrugged.

“So, how have you been?” She asked.

“I’m good. Well…” He seemed to think for a moment, before deciding he wasn’t a very good liar, anyways. “Kind of scared, still. I don’t like being away from all of you, but… The Hufflepuffs are nice, for the most part. I made a friend.”

“You did?” She asked, relief obvious in her voice. “Who’s your friend?”

“I was surprised, too. He sort of made friends with me, though, not the other way around.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “His name is Bertie- he’s a third year.”

“Ah, it counts either way.” She reached over to ruffle his hair, a soft smile on her face. She pinched his cheek, like their father often did when Matt was being particularly cute. “If he’s mean to you, I’ll throw him down the stairs.”

“Please don’t.” He said, though he was smiling. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright.” She said. “Have you spoken with Adi lately? He seems busy. With Kyung’s sister.”

“Mmhm! Shin-ji is… uh… well, I think you would like her.” He said, not unkindly. “Adi thinks she’s really great, and she keeps him from doing stuff he shouldn’t. I can’t tell if she likes me or not, but I think that’s just the way her personality is?”

“She seemed alright.” Sarah nodded. “Devious. I like that.”

“I think Adi likes her.” Matt said thoughtfully. “Like, _like-likes_ her.”

“He’s eleven.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “He doesn’t _like-likes_ anything but breakfast food.”

“I dunno,” Matt hummed, “he’s always talking about her, when I see him. And I think if I were in Gryffindor with him, and he saw me more often, he would partner with her instead of me in class.”

“The worst possible decision he could make.” Sarah said. “Sounds like him, though.”

“Him and Hari Anna are very similar.” Matt sighed.

“It’s no wonder they like each other.” Sarah said, shaking her head. “Birds of a feather.”

“Lions don’t have feathers.” Matt said, staring at her with a completely blank expression.

That’s true.” She chuckled. “They do not.”


	8. A Series Of Uncomfortable Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How?” Harry laughed. A favor depending on his presence in Potions? What could Dumbledore want from him? “Also, if I get to list favors I’m totally not going to do, I’m not committing murder, telling a friend to commit murder or blackmailing anyone.”
> 
> Dumbledore sighed, steepling his fingers together. One of Dumbledore’s hands was shriveled, looking oddly thin and fragile. Harry might have assumed it was simply due to aging if the whole arm weren’t slowly turning black. Harry knew what a cursed limb looked like, and Dumbledore’s arm had certainly been cursed for a long time. 
> 
> “I highly doubt any of that will be necessary.” Dumbledore said. “Harry, war is imminent. In order to fight such a battle, we must be as prepared as possible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for extensive discussion of the fragile mental health of children, a depiction of dissociation, slight implication of self-harming/self-destructive behaviors, etc. this is not an easy chapter to read, beyond the first scene, nor was it easy to write.
> 
> If anyone would like a summary rather than reading through the second two scenes, message us on tumblr or leave a comment and we'll summarize the chapter without any triggers involved. The next few chapters are going to be hard to read, and we don't want to compromise anyone's well being or safety.
> 
> -S&L

The staircase outside Dumbledore’s office was much more intimidating to look at than it should be. Of course, that could be, in part, because Harry ended up climbing it so often. He hadn’t even done anything illegal this year, which meant there was no reason for the urgent summons he’d received from some first year, who seemed ready to piss himself at the sight of Harry. Maybe one of his siblings had done something wrong. That would certainly be a chance of pace, and a welcome one.

Harry entered Dumbledore’s office, looking around at the familiar gadgets. Nothing about this place seemed to change. Everything was just as dusty as it had been his first year, the mirrors just as stained and cracked, the books seemingly untouched. Time seemed to stand still, in Dumbledore’s office, and Harry wasn’t sure whether that was because of the man himself or the sheer amount of magical objects he seemed to be hoarding.

“Professor?” He called out. “Professor, are you here?”

“Ah, Harry.” Dumbledore’s stepped out from the depths of his office, his voice preceding him. “You can take a seat, my boy.”

“Thanks.” Harry sat down in one of the chairs by Dumbledore’s desk, glancing nervously around the room. “I hope I’m not coming off rude, but what’s this meeting about? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“No, certainly not. At least, nothing I’ve heard about.” Dumbledore agreed with a chuckle, taking a seat on the other side of his desk. “No, I’m afraid I’ve called you here to ask a favor of you, Harry.”

“A favor?” Harry asked, frowning. “What kind of a favor?”

“One I’ve no right to ask of you, I’m afraid.” He said. “I trust you’ve met Professor Slughorn, by now?”

“Yeah.” Harry grimaced. “Mum’s forced me into Potions against my will. Can I drop a class, by the way? Just out of curiosity.”

“Normally, I might be able to make an exception. However, my favor relies on you being in his class.” Dumbledore hummed.

“How?” Harry laughed. A favor depending on his presence in Potions? What could Dumbledore want from him? “Also, if I get to list favors I’m totally not going to do, I’m not committing murder, telling a friend to commit murder or blackmailing anyone.”

Dumbledore sighed, steepling his fingers together. One of Dumbledore’s hands was shriveled, looking oddly thin and fragile. Harry might have assumed it was simply due to aging if the whole arm weren’t slowly turning black. Harry knew what a cursed limb looked like, and Dumbledore’s arm had certainly been cursed for a long time.

“I highly doubt any of that will be necessary.” Dumbledore said. “Harry, war is imminent. In order to fight such a battle, we must be as prepared as possible. Slughorn… He knows something. Something about Voldemort, and I have had no luck discovering just what it may be…”

“Did Slughorn know him?” Harry asked curiously. “I mean, everybody my parents’ age knew of him, at the least, before now, but Slughorn was old enough to teach my parents, so maybe he went to school with him? Oh, wow, that would make Voldemort really old.”

“Slughorn actually taught Voldemort. He was one of his prized students, if I remember correctly. I was the Transfiguration teacher at the time.” Dumbledore chuckled. “Of course, he wasn’t called Voldemort at the time. He was Tom Riddle- an exceedingly talented student who showed great promise…”

“I’d go into mass murder too if my name was Tom Riddle too.” Harry scrunched up his nose in disgust. “That’s the sort of name you’d find in a comic book.”

“Slughorn was Tom’s favorite teacher. His head of house. If he were to divulge information to anyone, at that point in his life, it would have been Professor Slughorn.” Dumbledore said, ignoring Harry’s comment.

“But why do you need me?” Harry asked, remembering a lecture his mother had given him over the summer, after she and his father had told Dumbledore off. “Wouldn’t it be better to have him speak to an Order member? He must’ve taught most of them.”

“No, I feel that having an adult attempt to speak with him would only cause him to push us further from the truth…”

“But those adults have known him for longer, and plus, at least one of them might know what you’re looking for.” Harry shrugged. “The Order’s full of some pretty smart people.”

“It certainly is, but it is of the utmost importance that no one learns of what we’re doing.” Dumbledore insisted. “It may cause suspicion, should a member of the Order approach him.”

“Then how is me knowing safe?”

“You’re a student, Harry, and your mother’s son. There is not a doubt in my mind that he could resist recruiting you. I suspect he’s already invited you to join his… Ah, Slug Club, as it were.” Dumbledore said.

“He has.” Harry nodded. “Should I-- What should I ask him about? If I was going to help, which I might not.”

“For now, I only ask that you attempt to get closer to him.” Dumbledore said. “I’ll call you back to my office at a later time, in order to tell you more about what we must know.”

“So I should just make friends with him?” Harry asked. “That’s… okay.”

“We all must take actions that can pain us, I’m afraid.” Dumbledore sighed. “War and adulthood force our hands, Harry.”

“I’m not an adult, though.” Harry piped up with a frown. “I’m only sixteen.”

“You’ve seen far more than many adults I have known, my boy.” Dumbledore said.

Harry rose up from his seat. “So should I tell you what happens after the party? Or will you call for me?”

“I’ll be sending you another letter when the time is right.” Dumbledore said. “Thank you for your time.”

* * *

Once, when Anne had been little and Hogwarts was nothing but a far-off dream, James had set her up on a stool in the kitchen to watch him cook dinner. Uncle Sirius had been showing Harry, Sarah, and Drew some Quidditch moves in the backyard, and Lily had been searching for Matt, so they’d had the kitchen all to themselves. It had been quiet and private, a rarity in the Potter household, and Anne had prized every second that ticked by without an interruption. Her father’s few hours at home were highly sought after, and him setting aside this time for only her had her beaming.

He had been telling her jokes and tugging at her pigtails between steps in one of her grandmother’s recipes, and eventually James had handed her a tiny piece of the pagakkai he had been chopping up for the pitlai he’d promised Harry for dinner. She had stuffed it into her mouth eagerly, only to find that it was incredibly bitter. She’d whined as it burned the inside of her mouth in a way that was entirely different from the pleasant heat of chili peppers. Her father had kissed her forehead, snuck her a huge chunk of vellam to suck on, and made her promise not to tell her brothers where (or why) she’d gotten it.

These days, it always felt like she had swallowed a particularly large chunk of pagakkai.

She had taken to skipping dinner, and sometimes breakfast, just to avoid seeing her siblings from across the room. It was even worse when she accidentally caught James’ eye. There was a churning pit of guilt and resentment that climbed up into the back of her throat whenever she was around her father lately, and the worst part was that she couldn’t figure out why.

Anne was sitting outside, in one of Hogwarts’ many courtyards, her back pressed against the rough bark of one of the trees. She tucked her legs up against her chest, glancing around the courtyard. It was blissfully empty, since most students were currently crowded into the Great Hall for dinner, sitting with their classmates and friends.

She didn’t have any friends yet, which didn’t seem odd to her. She couldn’t stand any of the other Slytherins, and many of them avoided her simply because of her last name. Gryffindors seemed to dislike her because of the color of her tie. Ravenclaws seemed to be of the same mind, or perhaps they had already had their fill of Sarah and had decided that any Potter girl wasn’t worth the effort. Hufflepuffs were alright, but she figured she had probably scared most of them off with her constant sour expression.

Being alone was alright.

“In an old house in Paris, all covered in vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines…” Anne mumbled to herself, dropping her forehead to the tops of her knees. She could hear the sound of footsteps approaching, but ignored them. “In two straight lines they broke their bread, and brushed their teeth and went to bed…”

The footsteps stopped abruptly, right in front of her.

Anne’s shoulders tensed with irritation. “What do you want?” She snapped, lifting her head to peer through her hair. Normally she was meticulous about keeping her bangs trimmed, but lately she had neglected them, and they had grown long enough to fall into her face. She was surprised to find her older sister standing in front of her, looking completely worn out.

Sarah’s eyes were red, as if she hadn’t slept in a while, and she seemed to be moving sluggishly, as if she was trudging through wet cement.

“I’m sorry.” Sarah said, looking rather ashamed. “This was-- I’m sorry, I’ll go. This was...” She let out a weary laugh. “This was stupid.”

“How did you even find me?” Anne asked, suddenly tired.

“It was an accident.” Sarah shook her head. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You should be at dinner.” It wasn’t a question.

“I will be.” Sarah said. “I’ll be going now, actually.” She motioned toward the Great Hall. “I’ll see you… I’ll see you.” She nodded sharply and began walking.

Something about her speedy retreat caused Anne’s hands to clench into shaky fists, and something bitter and hot to rise in her chest. “You’re a terrible liar.” She threw the words at Sarah’s back like a weapon.

“I never had to be a good liar.” Sarah called back over her shoulder. Her voice was thick and heavy, and Anne heard a familiar tremor in it, though she knew Sarah was trying her level best to hide any sign of weakness. “You were always there.”

“You’re such a prat!” Anne got to her feet, nails digging into the bark of the tree as she used it to haul herself up. “You always think you’re so much better than everyone else! But you aren’t! Always acting so superior--”

“Anne.” Sarah said, and something about how calm she sounded shocked Anne. “What can I do that any of the rest of you can’t? Quidditch? Drew has that covered. Any heroics I might try are immediately outdone by Harry. Matt is better than both of us combined. And you-- you might not be at your best right now, but when you are, you’re the smartest out of all of us. All I have that none of you do is books. That is it. And don’t worry, that’s gone too. So maybe pretending like I still have something that makes me special, like the rest of you have so easily, is all I have left. Did you think of that?” She curled her hand into a fist. “Just leave me alone, alright? Sometimes I don’t want to hear the truth either.”

Something inside of Anne jolted at the use of her name coming from Sarah’s mouth. Her name, but not her real name. Not the name she liked. They were alone, here, because Anne preferred that. Anne was always alone. And alone meant Anju. Privacy gave way to Anjali and Sharada, not Anne. Never Anne. She clenched her teeth and tightened her fists, staring at her sister with something desperate and hateful in her eyes.

“Leave you alone? Leave you alone?!” She howled, voice rising in pitch. “You’re the one who keeps hunting me down! I’d love nothing more than to leave you alone! You pompous, annoying, know-it-all arse!”

“I found you by accident.” Sarah said, her voice shaking. “There was no more of a chance that I’d find you than that I’d run into any other person at this stupid school.”

“Just piss off!” Anne screamed, fisting her hands in red hair and yanking.

“I will.” Sarah said sharply, stomping off toward the Great Hall.

Anne turned, letting out a wordless shriek and repeatedly slamming her hands against the tree, stopping to kick it instead only when she had scraped open the skin of her palms. This went on for several moments, until the rage blotting out her vision ebbed slightly, along with her energy. She slumped against the tree, sliding to the ground, as though she had stayed there all along, huddled in the dark courtyard.

“They left the house at half past nine, in two straight lines, in rain or shine,” she whispered shakily, staring blankly at her bloody palms. “The smallest one was Madeline.”

* * *

“Professor?” Sarah knocked on the door hesitantly. Her voice shook as she glanced into the room, unsure of what she would find. “You-- You called me for…”

“Do you really call him Professor?” Lily asked from her perch on James’ desk. Her hair was tied back and she was dressed as she normally did, in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Her expression was soft, despite her teasing words.

“We have to.” Sarah said, frowning in confusion. “It’s the rules.”

“Well, yeah, in class. But no one is around right now, and he is your dad. I doubt anyone would mind.” She said, gesturing for her daughter to step fully into the room.

“I thought I’d at least try.” Sarah remained in the doorway. “Worst comes to worst, I repeat Professor Dad. Even then, I’m not the first. It wouldn’t be as funny a second time.”

“It would just turn into a running joke, at that point.” Lily agreed easily, patting the empty space on the desk beside her.

“That’s-- that’s alright.” Sarah shrugged, averting her eyes. “I should be going anyhow. If he’s not here, I can come back later.”

“Honey,” Lily said, “I came here to talk to you, if that’s alright?”

“Why?” Sarah frowned. She looked around the room. Nothing was out of the ordinary. If any of her siblings were in danger, she would’ve been told. The only reasonable explanation was that her mother was there to see her, which sounded preposterous at best. “If-- if you don’t mind me asking. Uh. Sorry.”

“Of course I don’t mind.” Lily said, seemingly surprised. “It’s because you seem to be having… a bit of a tough time, and your father thought a woman-to-woman chat might be in order. Called in the cavalry.” She leaned forward as though divulging a particularly good secret, cupping a hand around one side of her mouth. “Men are useless.”

“I’ve noticed.” Sarah said. “And it really isn’t necessary, no matter what he may think. I just… slept through class, on accident.” She shuffled her weight between her feet awkwardly. “I stayed up too late. Reading. And I forgot to set my alarm for morning classes. I won’t forget again. I’ll look up a charm to do it automatically.”

“Sarah, honey, you know I love you.” Lily said, voice still gentle. “And you also know that I can see through excuses a mile away. I’m a mother. It’s in the job description.”

“Must be an awfully long job description.” Sarah joked. “You’ve used that line a lot on all of us.”

“That’s the real reason pregnancies are nine months long.” Lily said solemnly. “It takes that long to read it.”

“I’m assuming fathers don’t get a manual.” Sarah said. “Or that Appa hasn’t read his, at the very least. He spent the first class of the year telling us he only assigned a book because the school required it, and that he was telling us now so he could help us return it, if we needed any help.”

“Is that why there are ten copies of ‘Introduction to Defense Against the Dark Arts’ on his bookshelf?” Lily asked.

“Yes.” Sarah nodded. “Because some of my classmates had bought it too early to return it, and he decided it wouldn’t be fair to make them keep it when no one else had to. If it’s any consolation, he promised to actually use a book next year. Might be easier to keep up with him that way.”

“I have been married to him for a long time, and I can safely say that that isn’t going to happen.” Lily assured her daughter. “Now, what’s really the matter?”

“I don’t understand.” Sarah said. “I thought I already told you nothing was.”

“Charu.” Lily stood up, reaching out to place her hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “It’s alright. You can talk to me, okay?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Sarah jerked her shoulder away from Lily. She wore a scowl on her face not unlike the one her father did when angered. “I’m fine. I don’t care what Harry’s told you, he hardly ever talks to me, so you can’t count anything he says as trustworthy.”

“Madhu told me.” Lily said. “You can’t discount his trustworthiness, at least.”

Sarah visibly deflated, as if someone had punched her right in the gut. Her shoulders curled forward as she swallowed hard. “Oh.” She said. “He did. Okay.”

“He’s worried about you.” Lily said, careful to keep her hands to herself despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than to smooth down Sarah’s hair. “Don’t hold it against him.”

“He’s always worrying too much.” Sarah said tersely. “This is just another case of that.”

“In this case, I think it was probably justified.” Lily said. “I just want to help, honey.”

“There’s nothing to help.” Sarah replied. “School is just tough, that’s all. Nothing out of the ordinary, considering there is a huge jump in difficulty between first and second year. It’s only natural.”

“Sarah, I know you’ve been skipping classes.” Lily sighed. “McGonagall sent us a letter.”

“I’ve been doing well on the exams, at least.” Sarah protested. “Not-- not as well as I did last year, but I’m trying. And I know I haven’t been doing well, I know, but I can fix it. We’re only halfway through the term.”

“No, Charu, this isn’t about your grades.” Lily said. “This is about you. I know something is wrong, and I know it probably has to do with last year.”

“Everyone had a tough time last year.” Sarah shrugged, despite the heavy weight of anxiety building in her stomach. “I got away from it with barely anything. Stands to reason that I’d be the least likely to be bothered about it.”

“Suffering isn’t a competition.” Lily told her. “However you’re reacting is as valid as anyone else, but you can’t keep bottling it up like this.”

“I’m not bottling up anything!” Sarah objected. “What do I have to be upset about?”

“Your sister, for one.” Lily shrugged.

“She’s being difficult.” Sarah allowed. “But isn’t she always?”

“You mean she’s being a little bitch? Yes. Yes she is.” Lily said, causing Sarah to recoil in surprise. “But that’s a problem for another day, and right now I’m here to talk to you.”

“I’m fine.” Sarah said. “I’m just-- I don’t know why you’re all worried about me.” She tugged at the shell of her ear, rubbing the section just above the lobe between her thumb and forefinger. It was a nervous habit she’d developed recently, something she found at least minimally comforting. “I’ve been fine. My grades are low, yes, but I’m interacting with both friends and family regularly. I see Kyung daily for about an hour before and after dinner. I meet Ginny on Mondays at four, Adi on Thursdays at three-fifteen, and Matt for dinner on Fridays at eight. I’m submitting all of my homework, though some of it is late, and am doing my best to improve. I don’t understand what you want from me.”

Lily stared blankly at Sarah for a moment, as though processing the rehearsed ease with which she listed off her schedule. “Okay. That is incredibly worrying, you realize?” She held out her hand, palm up. “Can I see your planner?”

“I don’t know why you’d want to see it.” Sarah said, as she reached into her book bag. She pulled out a light blue notebook with Snitches and butterflies splashed across the cover and held it out to Lily. It was something of a tradition, her mother picking out a new planner for her before every school year. As the only two Potters with any concern for organizing their things, it had fallen to Lily to teach Sarah everything she knew in the hopes that Sarah might save the rest of her siblings from themselves. “It has absolutely nothing of interest in it.”

Lily flipped through the pages, her brow furrowing in a way that made her look incredibly similar to Matt. Everything Sarah had said was marked out in neat handwriting. And after nearly every ‘appointment’ she had, there was a large chunk of paper simply labeled ‘alone time’.

“You look upset.” Sarah said. Lily looked up from the planner to see Sarah looking at her blankly. Lily blinked back the sharp sting of tears as she looked at her daughter. “Why are you upset?”

“Can I hug you, honey?” She asked softly.

“Why are you upset?” Sarah repeated, frowning. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Because you’re planning things out much more carefully than usual, and I know this is just… an attempt at controlling your environment, because you can’t control yourself.” Lily said, holding the planner in her hands as though it would shatter at the lightest touch. “I do the same thing, when things get harder.”

“It’s not that.” Sarah took a step back, eyes wide. “It’s not that at all.”

“It is definitely that.” Lily winced.

“I read the books, you know. None of the others do, but I do. And I know that a couple scratches have nothing on what you and Appa went through.” Sarah snapped. “So if you’re telling me that I’m reacting like you do to Halloweens with way less to provoke it, well, that doesn’t say much about me, does it?” She laughed, though it sounded strained. “Wow, uh, that’s something. That’s really something.”

“Honey, everyone reacts differently to trauma.” Lily reminded her. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not that. And I’m doing just fine.” Sarah fumed. “And to prove it, you can keep that. I don’t need it anyway.”

“This is a coping mechanism, Charu, it’s okay to use it.” Lily said, holding the planner out.

“I don’t need it.” The desperation in Sarah’s eyes proved otherwise, but she turned on her heel regardless. “I don’t need it.” She said again, as if convincing herself. Her shoulders shook violently, betraying her.

“Charu--”

“I’ll write. They’ve been on my case about that. Just wanted to say it before you asked.” Sarah said, her back still to Lily, before storming out the door.

Lily stood in the empty classroom, planner still held out in front of her.


	9. Please Talk To Your Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Appa-- don’t make me-- Amma, I don’t wanna go-- don’t make me go back to Hogwarts.” Anne sniffled, her head still pressed against James’ side.
> 
> “You’re not going back, Anju.” James said firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for depictions of mental health issues in children, self-injury/self-harm, and self-destructive behavior in a child.
> 
> The_Evil_Is_Defeated.gif
> 
> -S&L

James looked up at the sound of a knock on his door and smiled at the sight of his daughter in the doorway. Her fist was centimeters from the doorframe, as if she had planned to knock a second time, and he grinned. That was his girl. Unfailingly polite. She hadn’t gotten it from him, for sure, but he was glad at least one of his children had an eye for those things.

“I was wondering when you would be back.” He said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. “Come on in, close the door behind you.”

As if it had been an order and not simply a request, Sarah mechanically shut the door behind her and trudged over to her father’s desk, sitting in a chair on the other side of the table. The chair was comfortable, but made her feel awkward, as if she was being questioned. They were nothing like the chairs in Umbridge’s office-- those had been almost uncomfortably soft and pink and squishy and--

“Charu?” Her father called, and she snapped to attention, blinking rapidly in shock. “Sorry, thought I lost you there for a second.” He reached across the desk to ruffle her hair with ink stained hands. He’d never quite gotten the hang of writing with quills, despite having grown up in the Wizarding World. Her mother called it endearing. Sarah called it a lack of work ethic, but only when her father wasn’t listening.

“Sorry.” She whispered, staring at her knees. “I’m just tired. Between Anju telling me off in the Great Hall, and all nighters, and responsibilities, I hardly think I’m a real person anymore.”

If she had looked up, she would’ve seen the smile fade from his face, but she didn’t.

“We’re halfway into the term now, you’ve got every right to be exhausted.” James said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… something feels off, Charu. Your mother said the talk last week didn’t go well between the both of you.”

“Why did you set me up like that?” Sarah asked, meeting his eyes. “You know I don’t like her.”

“You did.” James said, no small amount of sadness weighing those two words down. “You do. You always have. I don’t know what happened. I’m not saying you know, but it must be… it must be something.”

“It’s just like I told her.” Sarah grumbled. “Nothing at all. She just won’t take my answers as the truth, just like your other daughter, who’s stupid and annoying and needs this talk more than I do. I’m fine. She needs an attitude adjustment. A big one. With a bat or something.”

“I don’t believe it’s nothing at all.” James laced his fingers together, staring at them intently. “You know, your uncle used to get like this. When we were young. He’d just fade out sometimes until we joked about him being a ghost. Nothing could make him happy. He’d just float from thing to thing with the saddest look on his face.” James shook his head. “We all did our best, and eventually, he’d come out of it, given enough time and support. I figure you’ll be the same way, but… you won’t take our help. We’re giving it freely, Charu.”

“I don’t need help.” Sarah snapped. How dare he compare her to Uncle Sirius? For one, Uncle Sirius was dead and gone, and, secondly, Sarah was too smart to run at a death curtain.

“Charu. Do you want the facts?” James asked, knowing the quickest way to his daughter’s heart, and was pleasantly surprised by a rough, sloppy nod. “Your grades are lower than they’ve ever been, and that’s counting all those years that you didn’t get real grades. You are skipping class left and right. You’re doing fine on exams, but all the teachers whose classes you attend say you’re disorganized, uncooperative, and uncharacteristically quiet. I am not saying this to hurt you, and I’m sorry if it does. I just… I know there’s something we can fix here. Something that I can do for you. I haven’t-- I haven’t forgotten what you said. About me leaving you to her last year.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to feel that way again.”

Sarah kicked her feet against the legs of her chair in silence for a few minutes, staring down at the carpet. She knew that if she looked up, she’d find hazel eyes trained intently on her, awaiting an answer that she just couldn’t give yet. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what she felt. An overwhelming tiredness had swept through her after the news of her uncle’s death, and had never quite let up. She felt weighed down by her emotions, but at the same time removed from them. Every moment she was awake was a web of contradictions, pulling her this way and that, and she was caught right in the middle of it. All that was left was for a spider to show up and bite her head off.

Sometimes, she caught herself thinking that not existing for a while might not be so bad. And wasn’t that all that death was? Not existing for awhile?

Those were dangerous thoughts, she knew that, and she tried her best not to entertain them, but they came and went without warning, consuming her mind entirely one second and then disappearing without a trace the next. Like flash paper, she thought, remembering the Muggle magic trick her Uncle Remus used to do when she and her siblings were young. So intensely present one minute, then, suddenly, not even ash.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Sarah said quietly, wringing her hands in her lap. “It’s-- it’s almost like I don’t feel anything anymore. And sometimes I just start crying and I can’t remember why. And I’ll just-- I’ll just come back to myself all of a sudden and I won’t know who I am or where I am or why, and-- I’ll have to make up something to make sure no one gets worried, and..”

“I know you don’t want to hear this, because you didn’t when Amma said it last week, but I’m going to say it anyhow. She gets like this a lot, when things get too much for her to manage, and it’s only understandable that you would react the same way.” James reached across the table to pat Sarah’s head, and she cautiously leant forward to make it easier for him. “There we go. Small steps, hm? We can get through this.”

“I-- I don’t know what’s happening to me, Appa.” Sarah said, her voice shaking. She hung her head, shoulders drawing forward. “I can’t-- I left the planner with Amma and I just feel so-- so--” She waved her hands around her head, gritting her teeth, and her father nodded sympathetically, retrieving the book from one of the numerous drawers of his desk. “I don’t-- I don’t need it.” She insisted.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. All of us have something.” James said, fidgeting in his chair as he tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk. He needed to say the right thing. Nothing was more important than saying the right thing, in this moment, and he had no idea what the right thing was. “Your Uncle Sirius, he got up to trouble to keep his head on right. Your Uncle Remus would read for hours and hours and pretend the rest of us weren’t there. I used to toss around a Snitch, when I was your age. Made me look like a right idiot, but it kept my head in a good place. Gave me something to do with my hands. Also left some people thinking I was a Seeker, which was downright odd.”

“You haven’t got the coordination.” Sarah teased.

“Neither have you. Truly my daughter in that way, at least.” James retorted with a smile. “Back on topic, though. Glad you’re opening up to me. I don’t want to force the point, but your mother’s been worried about your classes. Is it the students?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Is it the teachers?”

Sarah hesitated, just for a moment, but it was enough to confirm James’ suspicions.

“The teachers then.” James nodded solemnly. “Right. So the you have the most absences in…” He pulled out a sheet of parchment, sliding his glasses back up his nose. Transfiguration is the highest, then Herbology, then Astronomy. Thoughts? Figure asking you for a correlation is faster than figuring one out myself, though I’ve got a few guesses.”

“What’s your guess?” Sarah asked hesitantly.

“They’ve all got female teachers.” James said quietly, looking at Sarah as if he was awaiting her confirmation. “It was the only way to explain why you’ve been odd around your mother as well. Astronomy’s got the least absences because you’re having trouble sleeping, but still more than Charms, Potions, Defense and History of Magic combined.”

Sarah froze in her chair.

“It’s okay to be scared, Charu.” James said, reaching across the desk to take her hand. “It’s okay to let these things define you for a bit, but it’s equally important to live your life well despite them. And I’m here to help you with that, and so is your mother. But you’re the Ravenclaw here, so you’re the brains of this operation. You’re in charge. What do you want to do?”

“I’m-- I’m in charge?” Sarah asked, confused. “You wanted me to talk, and you’re my dad, so I can’t really say no, and--”

“You pick your options. This is your life, Charu.” James said. “Who am I to get in the way of it?”

“My father.” Sarah said dryly. “You know, the man responsible for my general safety, wellbeing and finances for the next five years minimum?”

“Can’t seem to block the hard way for any of you as much as I’d like to.” James chuckled. “Alright. I’ll give you a situation, you give me the your call on it. Staying at Hogwarts: yes, no or maybe?”

“Yes.” Sarah said urgently. “I’m staying.”

“Okay.” James said, as if he had honestly expected a different conclusion. Thankfully he kept his opinions on the subject to himself. “Going to those classes you find hard more often. Yes, no or maybe?”

Sarah fidgeted in her chair, unable to give an answer.

“Let’s simplify it some more, hm?” James asked. “Attending Astronomy more. Yes, no or maybe?”

“Yes.” Sarah nodded. “That one isn’t hard. It’s just boring.”

“Very true.” James sighed. “I never liked it at your age. Always fell asleep by the telescope and got in loads of trouble.” He chuckled. “Attending Herbology more? Yes, no or maybe?”

“Maybe?” Sarah shrugged. “I just- I’m not too fond of plants, and it just reminds me of Neville, and… I don’t think Neville and I are friends anymore, after everything with him and Hari.” She admitted. “It just… makes me sad, I guess.”

“Maybe is good enough. Sprout is nice about those things. You do well enough in the theory that we can drop a couple points in the practical with no problem, hm?” James said, before heaving a huge sigh. “Right, the one we’ve been avoiding. Attending Transfiguration more: yes, no or maybe?”

“No.” Sarah whispered, before looking up at her father. “No.” She said, more forcefully this time.

“I figured that might be the case.” James said softly. “Right, so there are options here too. You have the choice of working with me, after school, to review so you are on track for exams. I’ve-- I’ve spoken to McGonagall.” He said, embarrassed, as if he expected Sarah to be angry with him. “She understands, given the circumstances, and wants to make sure you succeed. And if the best option for you is outside the classroom, then that’s just fine.”

“So I-- I wouldn’t have to go anymore?” Sarah asked.

“Nope.” James grinned. “You’d come see me in the evenings, once or twice a week, and I’d pass along a reading quiz from McGonagall on whatever the class was supposed to do, collect your homeworks to pass on to her, and check your knowledge on whatever transfiguration step they’re covering that week. Correct you on the finer points. All of that fun stuff.”

“That-- that sounds okay, actually.” Sarah said. “Manageable, even.”

“Good.” James opened Sarah’s planner to the current week before frowning. “Ah, look, Monday nights are mostly alone time. I’ll put in some time here, and… oh, look Wednesdays as well, perfect.” He scrawled in a note, circling two hour blocks of time on each day, and tapped the planner with his wand to propagate the changes through the rest of the term. “There, that’s settled. Now, one last question. This is a serious one.” He frowned when Sarah curled in on herself in the chair. “Not like that, I’m sorry, I was just going to ask if you needed a hug. You know your dad, that’s all I know how to do.”

“Fine.” Sarah sighed in exasperation, feeling like a normal preteen for the first time in awhile. Her father grinned, like an overeager puppy, and quickly made his way around the desk to pull her into his arms.

“That’s my sweet little girl.” James mumbled into Sarah’s hair, hugging her so tightly she thought her bones might shatter. She decided not to protest the fact that she was hardly little anymore, realizing that saving her energy might be prudent, seeing as she had so little of it lately. “I’m so proud of you. This was a big step toward getting better, and you took it by yourself.”

“You-- you can talk to Amma for me, right?” Sarah asked hesitantly. “I-- I don’t think I’m ready, just yet.” She hung her head.

“Whatever you need, Charu.” Her father promised. She knew he meant it. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it.”

* * *

“Anju, wait up!” James called, jogging up to his daughter. He hadn’t forgotten what Sarah had said earlier, but Anne needing a talking to more than Sarah did. He wasn’t going to take the attitude adjustment suggestion that followed, as Sarah had been quite angry when she had said that, and probably didn’t even mean it anyway. “Hey, could I talk to you for a second? It’s important.”

Anne slowed to a halt, glancing around at the other students passing by before looking up at her father. She scowled, clutching her books closer to her chest. The edges of her locket dug uncomfortably into her through her robes.

“Is this about Sarah?” She asked.

“Partially.” James admitted with a shrug. “Mostly about you, if we’re being entirely honest. Have you got a second? This is-- this conversation will be easier on both of us if we have it in my office, I think.”

“Fine.” Anne mumbled.

“Good.” James said with a smile. He remained silent through the rest of the walk to his office, holding the door open for Anne once they reached it. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“You know I have Herbology now, right?” She asked, shifting from side to side.

“No you don’t.” James replied with a smile. “The only dirt you’ll get on yourself today is emotions dirt.”

“I… don’t think that’s a thing, Dad.” She responded, sounding nonplussed.

“Speaking of other things that are not a thing!” James said, executing the worst segway in the history of segways. “Do you need to talk? About things? Your siblings have mentioned that stuff is probably going on, and I don’t know which Slytherins to put in detention and I can’t very well put all of them in detention. Snape might be gone, but they’d still pin it on me hating him somehow, which is honestly not a problem, even though he’s been extremely creepy toward my wife, who is also your mother, despite repeated attempts to stop him and also some restraining orders, if your mother’s information is to be trusted. I trust her to handle herself, she’s proven that enough times that I don’t worry. And also he’s in jail. Anyway, this meeting is about you.”

Anne stared blankly at him, blinking several times before responding. “Are you done, or…?”

“No, you go ahead.” James motioned for her to speak. “Sorry. You know how I get.”

“Yeah.” She rubbed some of her fingers together, frowning at the floorboards. “Anyways, I’m fine, so… I should be getting to Herbology.”

“I love and trust your opinion and, uh”, James checked the first of a set of purple pastel notecards piled neatly on his desk, “res-- is that a b or a p? Or a q? Or a d? Stupid letters, all of them look the same. Respect, yeah, that’s the word. Respect your agency as a human being, but your mother and I are worried about you.”

“Did Mum leave you cue cards?” Anne asked, her tone still carefully blank.

“I can’t read her handwriting. It’s all… loopy.” James grimaced. “You know as well as I do that I’m horrific at these things. I just want to help, Anju. You’ve been having difficulties getting along with the other kids, and even your siblings, since last December. It’s almost been a year and there’s been no improvement. If anything, it’s getting worse. It’s far past time we stepped in, as parents. And to do that, we need to know what’s going on. If you’d rather talk to Amma, I can set that up. She’ll come talk whenever, and I can get you out of Herbology again, if that’s convenient for you. Plants won’t stop being plants if you leave them alone for a bit, right?”

“I don’t want to talk to Mum, and frankly, I don’t want to talk to you either.” Anne said, scowling at the floor.

“Okay.” James nodded slowly. “Not the greatest start, I suppose. We’ve been in worse places, haven’t we? Right, so, what could we do to make it easier for you to talk to us?”

“I just said I don’t want to!” She snapped, still refusing to look up from the floorboards. “I just want to be left alone.”

“Anju.” James said gently. “Look at me.”

She held out for a long, silent moment, before she finally lifted her gaze to stare into James’ eyes. They had always had the same eyes.

“You can’t do this for too long, Anjali.” James tried his best to keep his voice steady. “You’re going to burn out eventually, and we don’t want that for you. It’s so hard to come back from that. Please, I know it’s hard to talk to us and I know you don’t want to, but it’ll be so much easier than picking up the pieces. We’re already having to do that with Charu and-- I don’t want one more of my daughters being lost to us.”

Anne’s expression, which had been cautiously softening the longer he spoke, immediately shuttered off at the mention of her sister. “This is about Sarah.” She said, eyebrows drawing together.

“She is a separate case, and you know I meant it that way.” James said. Anne never called her sister Sarah unless she had to. Just hearing it unnerved him. “What goes on between you two is not my business. You are both big girls. You can take care of it. I am here for you because I think you need me. You may not, because honestly, at your age, I didn’t want my father hanging around either, but I wasn’t going through all of this at your age.”

“Look, why don’t you just concentrate on Sarah?” She spit the words out like they tasted disgusting on her tongue. “I get it. You’re sick of dealing with my attitude. I’ve been difficult and rude and nasty all year and you want me to shape up. Well, congratulations! You can stop giving a shit, Dad! I’m fine. I don’t want-- I-- I don’t need you to--”

“Speaking as someone who was difficult, rude and nasty for quite a while, I’m pretty sure most of it comes from people not paying attention in the first place.” James raised an eyebrow. “And having been there myself, I feel like I’m at least somewhat qualified to help you out of it. Your mother… she handles things differently than you and I do. She’s calm about all these things, and you and I, we go straight to fighting. Two of a kind, we are.” James shook his head, a fond smile on his face. “Neither way is bad or better, of course. Both can be equally dangerous. That’s why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?” Anne demanded.

“You are my daughter and I care about you, so I am here.” James frowned. “If I haven’t been making that properly clear, I’m sorry. That is on me. Not you.”

“Stop that!” She snapped, her face flushing with anger.

“Stop what?” James asked, confused.

“Stop being so-- so--!” She let out a wordless shout, stomping her foot. “Just yell at me, already!”

“Anju, I’m not going to yell.” James said. “Do you-- do you want me to?” He frowned. “I-- I don’t understand…”

“Yes! No! I don’t-- stop! Stop, stop, stop!” She dropped her books, ignoring them as they fell heavily to the floor, and slammed her bandaged hands against her face.

“Anju?” James asked, fear evident in his voice. He quickly ran around his desk to reach her side, holding her hands away from her face. “Anju, please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t-- We can’t keep watching you suffer like this.”

“Let me go!” She yanked back, struggling to tear her hands from his grip.

“Anju, listen to me.” James relaxed his grip on her hands. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to hold tears back. “You keep-- you keep hurting yourself, and I know this isn’t you. There’s something happening. You’ve always got bandages somewhere, whenever I see you, and-- it’s worrying, you have to see that. We’re both worried about you, and so are your siblings.”

“I don’t care! I don’t care, I don’t care, I DON’T CARE!” She screamed, shaking her head. Anne gasped for breath, tears pooling in her eyes even as she continued to pull away from her father.

“Anjali, please.” James begged, pulling Anne into his chest. “You don’t even have to tell me what’s going on. You just have to try. I know it’s hard. I know it’s so hard.” His voice cracked on the last word, tears coursing down his cheeks. “I hate seeing you hurt like this. I hate it.”

Anne yowled like he had physically hurt her, slamming her fists against his chest. “I HATE YOU!” She screamed. “I HATE YOU! LET ME GO!”

“I’m not going to.” James said, through gritted teeth. “I’m not letting you go ever. Just tell us who’s hurting you and I’ll get rid of them, I promise.”

Anne continued to shove at him, hands fisting in his robes as she yanked her head back. She gasped for air, confusion and fury and pain radiating from her in waves. “You are! Everyone is! Sarah and Harry and me and-- and--!!”

“We’re-- we’re just trying to help.” James said forcefully. “I just-- I know how it ends when you leave someone alone when they’re like this and I-- I don’t want to see that again. I don’t. I can’t leave you alone, even if it hurts. I’m sorry. Hate me if you want, but… it’s worth being hated if you’re here to do it.”

Anne slammed her foot down on James’ own, a sob tearing from her throat as she managed to struggle free and sprinted for the door, leaving behind her books and broken-hearted father. She tore through the hallways, vision blurred by tears.

“Anju! Wait!” A familiar voice called out. She whirled around, tears streaming down her distraught face. She took several steps backwards as her sister’s face swam into focus.

“Go away! Leave me alone!”

“Anju, wait.” Sarah said urgently. “I think I figured something out. I think I know what’s happening to you.”

“I don’t!” She choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening anymore! I can’t-- I can’t think! Everything hurts!”

“Anju, give me the locket.” Sarah said, as calmly as she could. “The locket’s what’s wrong with you. It’s-- it’s cursed, Anju. I should’ve known, when Adi said where he got it. Appa should’ve known. We all should’ve. Take it off, Anju. Please.”

“My- the locket?” Anne stared at her with wild eyes, hands instinctively fluttering to her chest.

“It’s the locket.” Sarah confirmed. “There’s something wrong with it. I read up on it, and Kyung’s mom agreed. Mrs. Nang does this for a living, she knows better than anyone if something’s cursed. And if she says it, I trust her. Please, Anju, take it off.”

“I don’t-- I can’t-- Charu.” She let out another sob, gaze frantically darting from side to side.

Sarah stepped forward, hands out in front of her. “I’ll-- I’ll do it, if you can’t?”

“I don’t know what to do.” She wailed, digging the palms of her hands into her eyes. “I want to- I can’t-- please do something!”

Sarah grabbed the locket, and suddenly, the chain grew red hot in her hands. She yanked it off Anne’s neck without a second’s hesitation, grimacing as she threw the necklace to the floor, hands curling into fists.

“It’s-- it’s gone now.” She said, meeting Anne’s eyes. “It can’t hurt you. Not unless it’s touching you. It can’t. You’re going to be okay.”

Anne slumped to the floor beside the locket, sobbing hysterically into her hands. Her entire body shook with the force of it.

Sarah heard loud footsteps behind them in the hallway and pulled her wand out with the full intention of hexing whoever dared interrupt them. Upon spotting her father, she relaxed.

“Appa, the locket!” Sarah said. “It’s-- it’s cursed, it’s what was making Anju upset, and-- and I figured it out but she’s still upset and--”

“She’s-- she’s had a rough day, sweetheart, give it a bit.” James muttered, kneeling down beside Anne, who reached out for him almost instinctively. “Anju, come along, we’re going home. Charu, do you want--”

“She needs you and Amma right now.” Sarah said quietly. Her hand inched forward, as if she wanted to reach out to her sister, but she thought better of it at the last minute. Instead, she waved her wand, and the locket rose up in the air before her. She began walking down the hallway, a determined expression on her face. “I’ve got something to do.”

“Where are you going?” James called after her.

“Dumbledore’s office.” Sarah replied, and turned the corner, the locket hovering in front of her like a shield.

* * *

Lily sat on the couch, feet folded under her and a mug of tea sitting on the table in front of her. She was shifting through some papers, lips pursed thoughtfully.

Suddenly, green flames erupted in the fireplace, and seconds later, her husband stumbled into the room, their youngest daughter clinging to his back like her life depended on it.

“It’s fine, Anju, we’re home now.” He said, carefully setting her down on the carpet. He gathered her up into his arms almost immediately, and she buried her face against his chest, her entire frame shaking. “It’s okay. See, Amma’s here. Amma’s here, and I’m here, and we’re going to be okay.”

“James?!” Lily lurched to her feet, rushing over and kneeling beside them. She ran her hand through Anne’s unkempt hair. “Anju, Anju, are you okay?”

“The locket, Lily.” James said, rubbing Anne’s back. “It was the locket all along, some curse on it. Anju’s been-- god, I don’t even know what’s been going on inside her head. I’m so sorry. We should’ve figured it out.” He kissed the top of Anne’s head. “Charu-- Charu got to it first, in the end.” He laughed weakly. “That’s our girl.”

“Where’s Charu?” Lily asked, looking around as though she would materialize in the middle of the room. “The locket? The one Adi gave her?”

“The very same.” James said, holding Anne a little tighter. He whispered something in her ear that made her relax slightly before looking up at Lily again. For the second time that day, he was seconds from sobbing. “Charu’s at school. Said something about Anju needing both of us right now. She’s got a point.”

“Anju, princess, can you look at me?” Anne shook her head, pressing closer to James and snaking her arms around him as though she planned on never letting go.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” James said gently. “We’re going to get you something warm to eat, hm? You’re looking too skinny for your old dad’s liking. Then we’re going to just sit here for a while, together, and figure out what’s happening tonight. Then, if you’re feeling up to it, we’ll talk about tomorrow. One day at a time, Anju.”

“Appa.” She keened, tightening her grip on his robes as though scared he would let her go.

“Come on, Anju, let’s get up on three, okay? Both of us. I’m right here.” James said. “One, two, three.” He hoisted her up, putting an arm around her so she could burrow into his side. “Come on, there must be food in the kitchen. Or we’ll make something. Let’s go.” He looked back over his shoulder at Lily. “You too, Lily, come along then.”

Lily followed after them, looking far older than her thirty-six years as she watched her daughter bury her face against James’ side. “There should be leftovers from last night.” She said gently, reaching out to brush Anne’s hair back.

“We’re all going to be okay, Anju, no problem.” James said softly. “Amma and Appa are both here. Anything bad’s going to be too scared to touch you, hm? I punched Voldemort’s nose off, a necklace stands no chance against your dad, does it? And your Amma’s here, so that doubles it. She kicked his whole butt last summer.”

“The entire butt.” Lily agreed quietly, prompting a watery giggle from Anne.

“Appa-- don’t make me-- Amma, I don’t wanna go-- don’t make me go back to Hogwarts.” She sniffled, her head still pressed against James’ side.

“You’re not going back, Anju.” James said firmly. “Appa’s getting lonely without his favorite cooking partner. Your Amma can’t cook for her life. Makes me appreciate you a lot more.”

“I don’t wanna go back.” She mumbled quietly. “Can’t go back.”

“You won’t.” James said, pulling Anne along with him as he opened the fridge. He waved his wand to cast a warming charm on one of the glass containers. “Good thing I pack these lunches in advance, hm? There you go, let’s find a spoon. Wash your hands first, though. To the sink!”

“No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to, princess.” Lily murmured, already moving to put the kettle on the stove as James ushered Anne to the sink. She washed her hands silently. She was paler than Lily had ever seen her, the bags under her red, watery eyes casting her entire face into sharp relief. James was right about her being skinny- she was practically swimming in her robes. “You can stay right here for as long as you want.”

“You’re our baby, Anju. We wouldn’t hurt you like that.” James patted her head. “We’re going to get some food into you and then get you some sleep. It’s going to be okay. We can fix this.”

“I can’t sleep.” She mumbled, trailing after James to the table. “I haven’t been sleeping much, at all.”

“We’ll figure that out.” He said, reaching out for her hand. “We’ve solved bigger problems before, the three of us. We can take on a simple not sleeping. Easy. We’ve done it before. You were about… three, four, was it, Lily? You decided you weren’t going to sleep ever again because Amma and I were obviously having fun without you after bedtime. You used to just sit on the counter and watch us do the dishes and read the paper, and you’d just drop off there. In the morning, we’d tell you that you stayed awake all night.” James chuckled. “Slightly different now, of course, in that you’re actually not sleeping, but if we managed that one, we can do it again.”

“I’m too big to sit on the counter.” She mumbled as Lily pushed the food closer to her. She stared down at it for a moment before picking up her spoon. The first bite was hesitant, but soon she was shoveling it into her mouth like it was the first meal she’d seen in weeks.

“That’s what chairs are for.” James shrugged. “Hey, hey, slow down a bit. Don’t want you to feel sick.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, tears spilling over again, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry, it’s fine.” James said, rubbing her back. “You didn’t do anything. It wasn’t you. None of it was you.”

“But I did it.” She said, shoving another spoonful of food into her mouth as though tears weren’t still streaming down her cheeks. “I did all of it.”

“Focus on eating, Anju.” James patted her shoulder. “Then we’ll get you to bed.”

Lily set a mug of tea down in front of Anne, who wrapped her hands around it like a lifeline. “You’re alright.” Lily whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll get everything sorted out in the morning, okay? For now you just relax and let us take care of you.”

Anne sniffled, nodding silently as she leaned into her mother’s embrace.

For the first time in almost a year, she let herself believe that things were going to be okay.


	10. A Modest Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nowhere is safe in a war, love.” James sighed.
> 
> “I know.” Lily whispered. “That’s why we aren’t taking any chances this time.”
> 
> “Amma, Appa, everything is ready for dinner.” Anne said, interrupting their conversation as she walked back into the living room. She eyed the two of them suspiciously. “Should I give you some privacy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Potter family takes some time to recover. Winter Break looms ahead, and several conflicts come to a head in the next few weeks -- they deserve some time off before the actual time off stirs the pot of trouble! :) 
> 
> Enjoy this brief interlude full of preteen antics, teenage boys trying to be supportive of their female friends, and the awkward realization that your parents might actually still be in love with each other. 
> 
> See you next week!
> 
> -S&L

“So, you’ve been in here before, right?” Harry said to Kyung, who was glancing around the Gryffindor common room in a calculated manner. Some of the younger students looked at him curiously, but most knew better than to bother, especially when Harry was involved.

“It is… very red.” Kyung said, in lieu of answering.

“It’s the blood of our enemies.” Harry said proudly, pounding a fist against his chest. “Makes for great paint.”

“I see.” He sounded entirely unimpressed. “Shin-ji must fit right in.”

“Speaking of sisters. So, Sarah.” Harry rubbed his hands together, sitting significantly more stiffly at the mention of his sister. “How’s she doing?”

“Better than she was, at least.” He said, looking at the bulletin board on the wall before turning to look fully at Harry. “Whatever it was your father did for her, it seems to have helped.”

“Yeah, he’s always known how to get through to her.” Harry nodded. “Well, Mum’s better at it, but Sarah hasn’t had much patience for her lately.” He shrugged. “Not like she’ll be upfront with me either, so. Thanks for helping me out like this. I appreciate it.”

“As long as you do not mention it to Sarah.” Kyung said, not for the first time. “She would have both our heads if she knew about these conversations.”

“Listen, I can only mention it to her if I talk to her.” Harry chuckled. “And that’s never happening.”

“I only wish I could do more for her.” Kyung sighed, tugging at the ends of his sleeves. “I feel like I cannot get her to talk to me, the longer this goes on.”

“Same here.” Harry shook his head. “It’s tough, but some things you’ve gotta handle yourself, you know? Just so you know you can do it for next time?”

“Harry!” Drew suddenly appeared at his brother’s side, grinning up at him. Shin-ji followed him at a more sedate pace, raising an eyebrow at her brother’s presence but saying nothing. “Hey, how old were mum and dad when they got engaged?”

“Eighteen, I think?” Harry scratched his head. He’d been told the story often enough, as it was one of Anne’s favorites, but the exact details had long ago been tossed in a box in his head labeled “Unimportant Old People Things”.“They got married at nineteen, I know that.”

“Eighteen?” Drew seemed put-out for a moment. “Well, that isn’t very young at all.”

“Drew.” Harry frowned in confusion. “Eighteen is barely legal.”

“In England.” Shin-ji added blandly. “Which is where we live.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s pretty far away, don’t you think?” Drew asked, an indecipherable expression on his face.

Either he was trying to hide something, or he’d already chosen his path and was waiting for Harry to agree with him. Regardless, now was a time to impart some prime big brother advice. Harry cracked his mental knuckles. Game time.

“Yeah.” Harry said firmly. “As it should be. Because you’re in no position to be making huge life decisions at eleven. I should know.”

“No, I’m pretty sure about this one.” Drew replied. He didn’t seem fazed at all. That was worrying.

“What one?” Harry asked nervously. Maybe it was a pet! It could definitely be a pet. That, Harry could explain to his father with no trouble. Hell, he might just let Drew do it and get grounded. Maybe it was a bad grade. Drew could easily handle that as well, and Harry could just pop in at the end to play the supportive older brother who believes in his wayward younger sibling. Yes, that he could do.

“Getting married!” Drew smiled. “Personally, I think I’d be a pretty great husband.”

“You are eleven!” Harry yelled, shocked. He looked around the room, taking in the shocked expressions of the Gryffindors around him. Good! He wasn’t the only one. “As your older brother, NO!”

“Do not worry.” Shin-ji somehow managed to sound both condescending and diplomatic when she spoke. “I have already turned him down.”

“Excuse me?” Kyung’s eyebrows rose.

“Well, you didn’t exactly say no.” Drew said, smiling at her in a way that Harry was all too familiar with. It made him look exactly like James when Lily was doing something particularly infuriating. Harry wanted to vomit.

“Look, that’s not my sister, I don’t have to worry about that part.” Harry said, shaking his head. “But you, Adi, you are unfortunately my problem. My sweet, loving, sunshine of a problem. You can’t do this. I forbid you. I’m telling Mum and she’s going to chop you up and use you for potions ingredients. She’s got the shed ready and the knives and everything.”

“Nah, Mum loves me too much for that.” Drew said with a shrug.

“Shin-ji, as much as I commend you for turning down unwanted advances… what?” Kyung rubbed his hands over his face. “Please, explain the situation before I have to write to Mother and Father.”

“It really isn’t as big a deal as you all are making it out to be.” Shin-ji said, cocking her head to the side. “I told him to ask me again when we are seventeen.”

“Listen, Shin-ji, like your brother said. One hundred percent admirable. Well done. But also, no, he shouldn’t ask again.” Harry interjected. “I know I’m not the best decision maker, but come on! You’re babies. Drew's just barely stopped pissing the bed at night! You can’t make decisions about relationships! You're not allowed to even _think_ about relationships!"

“She didn’t have to know that.” Drew frowned.

“Which is why I have told him to ask me later. I would rather focus on my education, for now.” Shin-ji said. “Should he still be interested when we are of-age, I shall re-examine the situation and make further judgement.”

“Shin-ji…” Kyung groaned, mumbling something in Korean before looking up at Harry. “I blame this house. If she had been sorted into Slytherin, as I thought, I guarantee this would not have happened.”

“Gryffindor is a rubbish pile.” Harry agreed emphatically. “If only I’d ended up somewhere else. Maybe I would’ve stayed out of trouble.”

“I still think she’d be pretty amazing if she was in Slytherin.” Drew said, seemingly confused by Kyung’s train of thought.

“You do not get to talk anymore!” Harry pointed at Drew. “You have done enough damage!”

“For once, I am inclined to agree.” Kyung said.

“I mean, you can’t really stop me from talking.” Drew pointed out.

“I have tried.” Shin-ji agreed.

“As long as it doesn’t leave this room...” Harry drew his wand, pointing it between Drew’s eyes.

“So this is why Sarah dislikes you so much…” Kyung murmured thoughtfully.

“Remember what he did!” Harry said. “It’s ethical if he deserves it!”

“I am not entirely sure that is how ethics work.” Kyung said.

“Yeah, listen to him, he’s in Ravenclaw.” Drew said, eyeing his brother’s wand nervously. “He’s smart. That’s their whole thing.”

“He also told you to stop proposing to her, so do it!” Harry waved his wand around. “Unpropose! Right here! Right now!”

“I only proposed once!” Drew protested. “I didn’t do it multiple times!”

“Yet.” Shin-ji nodded. “He has about six years until it is a multiple offense.”

“Time to tell Mum and Dad you’re going conveniently missing right before Shin-ji turns seventeen.” Harry said cheerily. “I can’t believe you’re the first one in trouble this year! Oh, god, this is incredible! I love this feeling! It’s not me! It’s _not me_!”

“No offense, Harry,” Drew said, “but knowing you and the rest of our siblings, it won’t last long.”

* * *

“Oi, Ronald!” Harry called out, fumbling with the tie he’d most recently stolen from his father. It was brown, green and blue, and he’d stolen it from his father’s closet, which he now dimly recognized was a horrible idea. Every single Indian adult male he knew had horrible taste in ties, and Harry was hoping that he would be part of the practically mythical minority that knew how to dress themselves without a sweater vest involved. “Get your pants on!”

Ron’s grumbled retort was lost in the rather undignified squawk he made as he toppled to the floor with a loud thump. “Pants on, with… relatively minor casualties.” He called, his head coming back into view from the other side of his bed.

“Let’s run through what we tell Hermione when we see her again.” Harry said, grabbing Ron by the shoulders. “When you see Hermione for the first time, you say…”

“You look nice tonight.” Ron repeated back at him, rolling his eyes.

“And you do not say…”

“Oh, come on, it was one time!” Ron complained. “I know I fucked up, but it was two years ago!”

“And we are not going to…”

“Fuck up tonight.” Ron grumbled.

“Excellent!” Harry crowed. “Alright, once we’ve told her she looks pretty, but in an empowering way, we go down to Sluggy’s and have dinner. What do we do during dinner?”

“Not make fun of her for being a nerd?”

“Yep!” Harry nodded. “We agree with everything she says, even if we might think it’s wrong, because Hermione deserves our support against a room full of white people with too much money.”

“Might not be a room full of white people.” Ron pointed out. “He only let me in because you and ‘Mione asked.”

“Think about this school, Ron. Think about how you get into Slug Club. Think about who’s most likely to have the resources to become famous and powerful.” Harry said, shaking his head. “Room full of white people, undoubtedly. And both of us have gotta look out for Hermione, because somebody’s going to try and start a fight with her. And she’s our friend, our best friend, and we can’t let her down.”

“And not in a patronizing way,” Ron parroted, “because we both know she can take care of herself.”

“We are never telling her we talked about this.” Harry said. “If she hears we’re planning out how to protect her, she’ll--”

“I hope you boys are talking about Ginny Weasley.” Hermione said, and Harry turned around abruptly to find her in the doorway. She was wearing a yellow, A-line dress that flared out at her waist and brushed against her knees. The bright color looked striking against her dark skin.

“You look very nice, Hermione!” Ron blurted out, the tips of his ears going pink.

“Thanks, Ron.” Hermione said, only looking marginally suspicious. “That’s… very nice of you.”

“I mean it! You look great.” He insisted. “You’re going to have to beat the other boys off with a stick.”

“Stop it, come on, you’re just being silly now.” Hermione said, looking rather pleased.

“He’s right, you really do look nice.” Harry added. “Come along, we can’t afford to be late to this horror show. If we get lucky, he’s not fussy about letting slightly illegal duels happen when he’s not looking.”

“Harry, you are not allowed to fight anyone tonight.” Hermione admonished, tightening the knot of his tie. “We have to at least try to look respectable.”

“I’ll give it a decent effort, sure, but do I have to?” Harry whined. “Come on, have some pity on me. I already look horrible.”

“No, you look absolutely dashing, Harry.” Ron said. “Your hair even looks intentionally messy, when you’re all dressed up like this.”

“Did somebody break Ron?” Hermione asked, frowning.

“Sure as hell wasn’t me.” Harry said, shaking his head urgently. “Nope. I did not say anything.”

“Put that on my gravestone.” Ron said to Hermione. “If I’m dead, Harry Potter did it.”

* * *

When James came through the fireplace that night, he found his wife and youngest daughter seated on opposite sides of the coffee table, potions bottles and various tools spread out between them.

“Welcome home.” Lily said, looking up from the cauldron set out on top of the Bunsen Burner that usually resided with her portable potions kit.

“You’re doing it inside the house?” James asked in confusion, scanning the labels on the containers of ingredients Lily had arranged about the room.

“It’s raining outside.” Anne said, setting down a jar. Her smile was tired, but she had regained some of the color in her cheeks. It had only been two weeks since Sarah had taken the locket from her, and she’d been quieter in that time than either of her parents could remember her ever being. “I told Amma that I didn’t want to get muddy when you keep all the alternative ingredients inside, anyways.”

“Good call. That’s my girl.” James said proudly. “So, what are you making?” He set down his bag and joined Anne on her side of the couch. “Between Hari and Adi, the healing potion stock’s dwindling already. Might make you mix them up, if you turn out good at this.”

“Hiccoughing potion. I’m okay at it.” Anne shrugged, reaching for a pestle and mortar. “It’s kinda like cooking, I guess.”

“You’re great at it.” Lily smiled. “I feel like I’m learning more from you than you are from me.”

“We had to luck out with one of them, eventually.” James laughed.

“Well it certainly wasn’t going to be Hari or Charu.” Lily agreed. Anne ducked her head at the mention of her sister, suddenly incredibly invested in dumping her ingredients into the cauldron.

“Oh no.” James shook his head. “Madhu, maybe. There’s some promise there, from what good old Sluggy says.”

“He’s always liked playing around with plants.” Lily nodded, knowing that those who did well in herbology often excelled in potions as well. “Anju, the potion has to simmer for the next twenty minutes, so why don’t you go wash up and set the table for dinner?”

“Alright.” Anne got to her feet, standing on her toes to kiss James on the cheek before heading into the kitchen.

“Be safe, Anju.” James called after her. “Remember, don’t take plates out of the shelves higher than your head! That’s how you get concussions!”

“I’ll be fine, Appa!” She called back.

“So, how’d the talk with Charu go?” Lily asked quietly, leaning toward James to make sure Anne couldn’t overhear them.

“Well, we didn’t want to tell you anything until we had something worked out, so we’ve been testing a solution for a bit now.” James nodded. “It’s… it’s happening.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She’s doing better. Talking to me more, promises to make an effort with someone other than Madhu. We’ll see.”

“It’s working?”

“She’s a little more comfortable now that we’ve pulled her out of Transfiguration with McGonagall. She’s quite good at it, actually-- shows what happens when you’ve got a teacher you can handle, right?” James shook his head. “We’re working through the small stuff as it comes up. Getting things in on time, not freaking out about going off schedule. It’s happening.”

Lily nodded, smoothing her hair away from her face and releasing a relieved sigh. “She’s a smart girl. Everything that’s been happening to her… none of it is her fault.” She agreed. “Would she be alright with me writing her letters? Winter break is coming up, and I don’t want to rush her into anything too quickly.”

“None of it is, and I think she understands that, on some level. She’s… she’s been telling me about what it was like last year, the things she left out of her letters to you, and… I know she’s the most private of all of our kids, except maybe Madhu, but I’ve never been more thankful the rest of them won’t shut up.” James sighed. “The Ravenclaws are a nasty bunch. Remember when we thought Slytherins were the only bad ones? Simpler times.”

“At least she’s got Kyung.” Lily hummed. “He seems like a good boy. If he weren’t there, I’d think about sending her to muggle school, instead.”

“She’s outright rejecting leaving Hogwarts, funnily enough.” James said. “She’s convinced she’s nearly halfway to OWLs already, so it’s not worth dropping the work she’s done and starting over. Something about not wanting to leave her friends behind. Definitely your daughter.”

“Don’t I know it.” Lily laughed, propping her head up on an open palm. “Us Evans girls are as stubborn as they come.”

“And I decided to help you make more.” James shuddered. “What was I thinking?”

“We weren’t thinking, obviously. That’s how we ended up with five kids.”

“True. Very true. I can distinctly remember something else we were doing instead.” James winked. “But yeah, if you’d like, I don’t think letters would be… too bad. It’s just… she’s had a problem, since Umbridge, and I don’t know if it’s my place to talk about it?” He scratched his head. “I don’t know. You being around still scares her a bit, and I guess talking some before she comes home would be best. Letters are less pressure than showing up. We scared her off some by doing that.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that impression.” Lily sighed. “And I don’t want to send all communication to her through you or Madhu forever, you know? I’ll write a letter, and if she doesn’t react well we’ll… work something out.”

“That’d be something.” James chuckled. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t be the one doing all the yelling in the teenage years. You’ve got to fix your relationship just for that.”

“I can put in some overtime with the other kids. I’m pretty good at yelling.” Lily snorted.

“She loves you, Lily.” James said, uncomfortably aware of what Sarah had said to him. It had been done in confidence, and regardless, he was quite sure that she hadn’t meant it. Everyone said things when angry that they didn’t mean. No one could be around Lily too long without falling head over heels for her-- he was the prime example. “She just needs some pushing to admit what’s important to her, just like her mother. And, as per usual, I’m the push.”

“I just don’t want to push her too hard, James.” Lily sighed. “I’m alright with giving her the space she needs, for now, but I’m worried about her and Anju having to interact over Winter break.”

“They’ll be fine. Charu will probably hang around with the boys more. Did you know she’s been actually talking to Adi? They might actually be friends now.” James said excitedly. “She’s not holding any of what was said between them against Anju, but I’m pretty sure she should be.” He sighed. “I love Anju, but we both know she’s got a little too much of me in her for her own good. Goes for the throat a little much. Hopefully it’ll pass with time.”

“It seems to have passed for now, at least. She’ll start getting worked up and then just… shut down. It’s like she’s scared to get too upset.” Lily ran a hand over her face. “And Charu is just… scared in general, and pretending not to be.”

“I mean, I call her an arrogant prat all the time, but I’m her dad, she knows I don’t mean it. I just want her to loosen up a little.” James ran a hand through his hair. “She’s so… stuck on things, most of the time. Forgets to be a little kid, and she won’t have the opportunity for much longer. And now all of this, and…”

“I feel like we’re messing all of this up.” Lily dropped her head into her hands. “I know we’re doing our best, but it never feels like enough… How can we protect them, James?”

“This is going to sound terrible, and I’d like to let you know before I say it that I am completely fine with sleeping in my office not only tonight, but for a maximum of one week.” James said seriously. “I guess the truth is that we can’t protect them. My parents said the same thing during the First War. It’ll come to our doorstep whether we want it or not. All we can do is not be here when it shows up.”

“I guess that was the point of all of this.” Lily murmured. “The hidden portkeys and emergency luggage… Have you told your aunt we might be showing up?”

“She knows.” James nodded. “They don’t get much news about the situation here, back home, but what they’ve heard, no one likes. She offered to take the kids in for a little while, if we needed it.”

“Not without us.” Lily said firmly. “If something happens and we get separated, the kids are first priority, but if we’re sending them off, I’d rather we go with them.”

“That’s what I said.” James smiled. “We’re a package deal. All of us or none of us.”

“Right.” Lily agreed. “I mean, we really only got married so they would let me into your hospital room. Getting separated now would kill me. In the metaphoric sense. No more heroics, James, like what you pulled in Godric’s Hollow.”

“Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.” James took Lily’s hand in his. “We were young last time, and I thought it would be better for him to have you than neither of us. I wasn’t thinking at all about how it would make you feel.”

“Damn straight you weren’t.” Lily said with a frown.

“If I was thinking, I would’ve sent you out first, seeing as you’re the better dueller between us.” James said. “Would’ve dropped Harry with Remus right quick, then come back to back you up. Together, we could’ve taken him down faster and come right home to our boy. Age gives you certain advantages, right?”

“Making sure you have a wand also gives you an advantage.” Lily said dryly.

“It does, but I was in a rush!” James argued. “And it’s not like I didn’t get the job done just fine without it.”

“I’m just saying, you should probably try to keep it on you.” Lily said. “Last time we thought we were safe behind the Fidelius Charm, but we don’t have that luxury now.”

“To be fair, it didn’t work then, so we haven’t ever had that luxury.” James pointed out.

“No one could have accounted for Peter. I trusted him just as much as you did, James.” Lily said, placing her hand against her husband’s cheek. “We thought we were safe there.”

“Nowhere is safe in a war, love.” James sighed.

“I know.” Lily whispered. “That’s why we aren’t taking any chances this time.”

“Amma, Appa, everything is ready for dinner.” Anne said, interrupting their conversation as she walked back into the living room. She eyed the two of them suspiciously. “Should I give you some privacy?”

“No, no, we were just talking.” Lily laughed, getting to her feet. “Let’s bottle up these potions while your father finishes cooking, then, shall we?”

“Sounds good.” James got up, planting a kiss on Lily’s cheek before continuing on his way to the kitchen.

Lily watched him go with a fond smile, only to glance down at Anne as she sighed. “You two are so weird.”


	11. Crappy Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you know what the necklace was when you gave it to her?” Sarah asked.
> 
> “Of course not! I never would have given it to her if I had known!” He said.
> 
> “The only way everything that happened could be your fault is if you knew what the necklace was, and gave it to her anyway. Seeing as you didn’t do that, the answer’s simple.” Sarah shrugged. “Neither of you is at fault. Like Amma says, it’s just… a dangerous time to be a Potter, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Adi's redemption arc, a clumsy attempt at plot resolution, and New Concerns Arise....
> 
> -S&L

Matt was laying on the horrendously ugly living room carpet, wrapped in twinkling fairy lights. The little pinpricks of light danced against the ceiling as he moved, creating constantly changing constellations of color. Harry realized, in that moment, just how tall his younger brother had gotten, as Matt’s toes brushed against one end of the carpet and the very tips of his wild hair touched the other. He was smiling almost as brightly as the lights he was tangled in.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this, Madhu.” Sarah said from the couch. Her nose was buried in a thick book, and she flipped the pages almost too quickly. Those who knew Sarah were well aware that she was, in fact, reading properly. A primary teacher had once doubted her, and had been soundly admonished by Sarah herself. “Be careful of the lights. If they crack, there could be sharp edges.”

“They’ve never cracked before.” Matt giggled, running his thumb over one of the bulbs. It was pleasantly warm, and smooth under his fingers. “Appa and Amma have had these as long as I can remember!”

“He’s right.” Drew said with a smile. “We do this every year, after all.”

“Good birthday, huh?” Harry asked, with a grin.

“Yes!” Matt nodded eagerly. “I don’t feel much different, age-wise, but it is a very good birthday.”

“I can’t believe it.” Lily sighed, blowing at her mug of hot chocolate. “You three are twelve, now. I feel old.”

“They’re all growing up so fast.” James pulled Anne into his side. “You’re never allowed to leave us. All of you are required to stay with us forever.”

“What if we want to have lives?” Harry asked, resting his chin on his palm.

“No.” James said firmly. “Not at all. No.”

“Aw, c’mon, we’re allowed to have lives.” Drew whined.

“You proposed to someone.” Lily said blandly. “You aren’t allowed to have any sort of life until you figure out how to be responsible.”

“I can’t believe you.” James said, slapping a hand over his eyes. “I waited until eighteen just fine! And you’re eleven! How do you know what you want?”

“You liked Amma when you were eleven.” Matt mused aloud.

“I thought she was funny. I didn’t like her in a romantic way. Just thought she might be fun to be around.” James corrected. “I was much older when I realized that part, like everyone should be, because you are too young to actually, truly, really be in love with someone at eleven, Adithya.”

“I’m definitely in love with her.” Drew insisted. “She’s funny, and talented, and she can make people shut up with her face. Like, she’s scary. It’s awesome.”

“It’s his birthday.” Sarah spoke up. “Birthday immunity.”

“True.” James replied despondently, before heaving a melodramatic sigh. “He has birthday immunity.”

“As family matriarch, I can overrule any and all requests for birthday immunity.” Lily said.

“But Amma, he made a friend.” Matt said, rolling to the side and sitting up.

“That he’s trying to marry, Madhu!” Harry interjected. “You aren’t trying to marry Bertie!”

“Don’t marry Bertie, son.” James said, shaking his head slowly. “If you love me, don’t marry him.”

“How come?” Matt asked.

“Old drama.” James said, wincing as Lily glared at him. “Nothing. It’s all fine. Don’t think about it.”

Matt hummed, wiggling slightly to free his arms from the tangle of Christmas lights. Bertie was a good friend to have, despite him being three years older. He knew the best nooks and crannies of the castle to hide in, and he was patient with Matt whenever he dallied to speak with some of the friendlier paintings. It had been a bit of an affair, saying goodbye to everyone before winter break, Bertie included. It had been a bit awkward, as well, considering Bertie was Jewish, and Chanukah had already ended by the time school let out.

“Maybe we can invite him over.” Matt hummed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. “He said he’d be spending break with his dad. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind leaving for a bit…”

“Did you just ask to have a friend over, baby?” Lily asked, sitting up straighter. She was obviously trying not to look too excited, so as not to discourage Matt from asking again in the future, an effect completely ruined by the look of joy on James’ face.

“He did!” Anne sat up from where she had been leaning against James’ side, looking more lively than she had in quite some time. “He definitely did!”

“Bertie and Madhu are good friends-- better than anyone else Madhu isn’t related to.” Drew shrugged.

“We must investigate him thoroughly.” Sarah said, shutting her book. “When can we start?”

“What are you expecting to find on this kid?” Harry asked, incredulous. “He’s what, seven?”

“A history of drugs and violence, maybe.” Anne suggested. “You never know, with kids these days.”

“He’s thirteen.” Lily said, obviously amused.

“You remember Appa when he was thirteen, right?” Harry chimed in. “We’ve gotta be careful. Who knows what kind of a family this kid is coming from?”

“Background check him immediately.” James said urgently. “Right now. Get started.”

“Appa, do you not like Bertie?” Matt asked, staring up at his father with wide eyes.

“No, no, he’s a great kid!” James said, shaking his head. “Wonderful boy, works very hard, passable grades. Very good answers on exams. Creative. I just want the best for my boy, hm? Gotta cover all the bases just in case. Not expecting anything to come up. Nope.”

“Alright…” Matt nodded, despite still looking unsure. “Because, he’s very nice. And he enjoys your class a lot, you know.”

“He does?” James brightened up. “Oh, I’m glad someone does. I try hard to make it a fun and educational experience.”

“The only thing I’ve learned is that I shouldn’t go.” Sarah teased without looking up from her book. “There are better uses for that time.”

“Unacceptable!” James declared. “My class is your favorite and we both know it!”

“Sure.” Sarah said tonelessly. “Yeah. Totally.”

“It’s definitely my favorite class.” Anne deadpanned.

“Oh, I get it!” Matt laughed. “Cause you’re homeschooled, now.”

“Yes, Madhu, exactly.” Anne said with a smile.

“I’m so proud of him.” Harry said, nodding as he pressed a hand to his chest. “He’s all grown up. Getting jokes, asking to have friends over… Our baby is a fully developed human being. Look at him.”

“You say that like you helped.” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“He does that a lot.” Anne shrugged.

“I’m not half as bad as you make me out to be!” Harry complained. “Let’s remember who the real villain is! Adi! He’s eleven and thinks he’s in love! Discuss!”

“The only thing I loved when I was eleven were hair ties.” Lily sighed. “Kids these days.”

“They grow up too fast.” James said, shaking his head. “Kids these days, indeed.”

* * *

“Hey, Anju!” Drew trotted after his sister, catching her sleeve before she could climb up the stairs. The rest of the family was still gathered in the living room, just far enough away that their conversation would be private so long as they kept their voices down. “Where are you going?”

“Upstairs.” She said, shrugging uncomfortably. “I was gonna head to my room for a bit.”

“Why?” Drew frowned, cocking his head to the side. “It’s our birthday-- we should be spending time with everyone else.”

“I’m just tired, okay? I just… you know, need a few minutes.” Anne frowned, tugging her sleeve from Drew’s grip.

“You sound like Madhu.” Drew said, not unkindly. “You… never really need to ‘take a few minutes’, Anju.”

“Well, now I do.” She snapped. Drew didn’t seem fazed, but Anne paused to suck in a breath. When she spoke again, it was in a flat tone of voice. “Can you just let me go upstairs, Adi?”

“I mean… yeah, I guess.” He shrugged. “You’ll come down for dinner, right? We’re gonna do presents then, Amma says. I got you something really great this year.”

Anne grimaced. “Oh… yeah, great.”

“I mean it! I mean, I noticed you stopped wearing that locket I got you, so I figured--”

“No.” Anne held her hands up as though to fend her brother off. “If you got me another necklace, there’s no way in hell I’m wearing it.”

“What?” Drew frowned, a look of hurt flashing across his face. “I mean, I guess I’m a guy, so I’m probably not too good at picking out jewelry, but…”

“Adi. I know you noticed how… how bad I’ve been, the past few months.” Anne said.

“What? Yeah, I mean, we all have. We were worried about you- but you seem a lot better now! I guess Hogwarts wasn’t really… good, for you?” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I mean, yeah, but that wasn’t… Hogwarts wasn’t the catalyst, you know?” Anne crossed her arms.

“O… kay?”

“It was the locket. Appa told me you found it in Uncle Sirius’ old house, and, well, I mean… You know how crazy his family was.” She said, her tone clipped.

“Wait, you lost me.” Drew said. “What about the locket?”

“It was cursed, or, or possessed, or something.” Anne snapped. “And it made me mad! I mean, it made me… angrier. Angrier than I already was, and…”

“Wait, the locket was why you were acting all weird?” Drew exclaimed. “I thought it was because you were in Slytherin! Or puberty!”

“I mean, I’m sure that factored in!” She threw her hands up.

“I did that to you?!” He pressed his hands against his face.

“No, the locket did.” Anne snapped.

“I gave the locket to you!” He said, his voice rising in panic.

“This isn’t about you, Adi!”

At the sound of yelling, Sarah, who had abandoned her spot on the couch in favor of open season on Drew, rushed to Anne’s side.

“She’s right, you know.” She said to Drew, glaring at him. “This isn’t about you.”

Drew stepped back, eyes wide. “I mean… But this is all my fault, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter whether it is or not.” Anne said desperately. “It just… it happened, okay? It happened, and now it’s over, so can I please just go up to my room?”

“I’ll handle him.” Sarah said, awkwardly patting Anne on the shoulder. “You go.”

Anne immediately turned and retreated up the stairs. Drew made to follow her, but was stopped by Sarah’s hand on his arm. “I have to apologize.” He said, staring up at his older sister.

“Adi, I know you mean well.” Sarah said. “But leave her alone, for now. She needs her time to calm down and recharge, and interrupting that will make things worse.” She took a deep breath. “Now, before she comes back, we have to do something important.”

“What…?”

“The guilt feelings.” Sarah clarified. “Get it all out. She has enough on her plate right now, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to talk. So, go for it. I’m here to listen. Reluctantly, but that shouldn’t matter too much. Go on, get started.”

“It’s just….” He stared up the stairs where his sister had disappeared. “I… I did that to her. Everything that happened… that was all my fault?”

“Did you know what the necklace was when you gave it to her?” Sarah asked.

“Of course not! I never would have given it to her if I had known!” He said.

“The only way everything that happened could be your fault is if you knew what the necklace was, and gave it to her anyway. Seeing as you didn’t do that, the answer’s simple.” Sarah shrugged. “Neither of you is at fault. Like Amma says, it’s just… a dangerous time to be a Potter, I guess.”

“Look, the intent behind the gift doesn’t matter- the point is that I… I did it. I gave it to her, and that lead to what happened to her. Those are facts.” He frowned, stepping back. “I think I need to… think about this.”

“Think all you want.” Sarah said. “If you need to talk about it, talk to me, or Hari. Hari has plenty of experience with these kinds of things, I’m sure. Just… Anju has enough on her plate. Leave her be for now.”

Drew nodded silently, hesitating a moment longer before turning and walking away.

* * *

Anne rapped her knuckles against Sarah’s bedroom door. It was open, but she knew that if she just walked in and started talking things were bound to turn into an argument. She’d had enough arguing for one day.

“Come in.” Sarah said, neatly setting aside a letter she’d been writing. “I’m guessing you’ve had enough of the boys for the day.”

“Only all the time.” Anne sighed, moving to sit next to her sister. “You and Madhu have the right idea, hiding away.”

“Never thought I’d see the day.” Sarah said, shaking her head. “You admitting I’m right has been a long time coming. Shouldn’t be questioning it, now that it has.”

“We both know you’re right most of the time.” Anne shrugged. “Might as well say it out loud, I guess.”

“I try my best.” Sarah shrugged. “Alright. Enough deflecting. What do you want to say?”

“I would have gotten around to it eventually.” Anne mumbled, twirling a strand of hair around one of her fingers.

“I know you would have.” Sarah said. “I’m just… hurrying you along.”

“I’d ask if you want me to go, but I figure I should say my bit first.” Anne sighed. “I just… I’ve been… really terrible to you, these past few months.”

“You had several reasons, to be fair.” Sarah admitted. “I won’t say I wasn’t mad at you initially, but it’s not something to worry about. It’s over. We handled it.”

“Um. That… isn’t really a situation you can say ‘we handled it’ about.” Anne said. “Not to mention, it… wasn’t really handled. Well. Part of it was handled, partially, but the chunk with your feelings was… the opposite of handled, really.”

“For the record, I don’t want you to leave.” Sarah said. “Even at your worst, you weren’t that bad.”

“I’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one.” Anne winced. “I was pretty awful, Charu.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been pretty awful to you our entire lives. I think it’s even, now.” Sarah shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

“That was different, though. I mean… growing up we gave each other a hard time, but this was… extreme, and I really feel like I hurt you, and you were already having such a hard time--” Anne cut herself off, pursing her lips for a moment. “I just wanted to apologize.”

“It’s-- It’s fine. Honestly. I made a bigger deal of things than I should have, and really, the things that were said weren’t things we’ve never said before, you know?” Sarah said. “I-- I guess I was kind of overprotective. I just… The whole situation seemed wrong, and well… we figured that out, didn’t we?”

“You figured it out.” Anne corrected her. “If you hadn’t been researching and writing to Kyung’s mum, I’d likely still be wearing the locket and banging my head against the wall.”

“I suppose.” Sarah shrugged. “Appa was on the right path. The funniest part about the whole ordeal was that Dumbledore didn’t even listen to me.”

“He’s a dumb old white man.” She sniffed. “I’ll kick his ass for you, Charu.”

“Hari does something when he’s twelve and he’s a genius who saved the school. I do something when I’m twelve and I’m just paranoid.” Sarah scowled. “I may not have killed a snake, but that’s mostly because there was no snake to kill. If there was, I would’ve done it faster than he could’ve. Of all the things you said, that was the one you shouldn’t take back. He really can’t do anything right. Either of us would’ve been better.”

“I still shouldn’t have said it.” Anne said, leaning back slightly.

“You don’t have to apologize for the truth.” Sarah said. “If that’s the only thing you learn from me, it will have been worth it.”

“I’ve learned plenty from you.” Anne said. “And it isn’t that I’d be apologizing for saying the truth, it’d be apologizing for… for the intent behind saying it?”

“He needs an attitude adjustment. I keep suggesting it to Appa, but he says cricket bats were meant for balls, not heads.” Sarah shook her head. “I object.”

“... Charu? If… if Dumbledore didn’t believe you, what happened to the locket?” Anne asked.

“I made him believe me.” Sarah frowned. “Who do you think I am?”

“Amma is gonna be so proud of you, already telling Dumbledore off.” Anne snorted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“He’s testing it himself, to get a better idea of what it could be, as if my suggestions weren’t enough to build off of. I had citations and everything, thanks to Kyung’s mother.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “He says once he finds out what it is, he’ll destroy it.”

“That’s good… Dunno why Uncle Sirius’ family kept it around, if it was so dangerous.” Anne nodded, relief evident in her eyes. “I’m glad it’ll get destroyed.”

“It needs to be. I don’t want anyone else going through what you did.” Sarah said seriously. “On that note, I expect regular letters, now that I can’t just come find you.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll send them with Appa- it’ll be faster than an owl, at any rate.” Anne said, smiling at her sister.

“Letter delivery.” Sarah smirked. “He’s being downgraded.”

“More like a promotion, if you ask me.” Anne giggled.

“Thank you.” Sarah said. “For, uh, apologizing. It can’t have been easy.”

“Doesn’t matter if it was easy or not… You deserved an apology.” She shrugged.

“I hope…” Sarah trailed off, averting her eyes. “I hope that’s not what you think of me, actually. I know I’m… very much so all the things you called me, but… I don’t know.” She sighed. “I’ve been difficult as well. I’ve always been very difficult, if Appa’s to be believed.”

“I’ll have you know I quite enjoy your company, most of the time.” Anne said, looking up at her sister. “The… the locket made it so that I only ever saw the worst in everyone, and then amplified all of it. Made me angrier than I was, and more likely to pick at other people… We’ve all got the potential to be the worst versions of ourselves, I think, but… You’re a good person, Charu.” She shrugged, looking down at the floor. “Don’t let some stupid stuff I said make you think otherwise.”

“Look at Hari, he certainly proves that every day.” Sarah scoffed. “Thanks, Anju. I’m just-- I’m not like the rest of you, you know? Even Madhu is making friends now and getting along well with his classmates. I’d relied too much on the idea that you four were all I needed, I suppose.”

“You’ve got Kyung, and Ginny.” Anne pointed out, leaning against her sister’s arm. “But if worse comes to worse, you can always come home and spend all your time with me. I’m better than anything in that stuffy old castle.” She teased.

“You are.” Sarah ruffled Anne’s hair, pulling her into her side. “Much better, by far. But Kyung would waste away without me, so for his sake, I have to go back. Such is the burden of friendship.”

“I get that. I might not have made any friends, but I worry about Adi.” Anne admitted.

“I’ve given up on him.” Sarah said frankly. “It makes life much easier. He’ll manage somehow. Or Shin-ji will kill him.”

“Maybe he should marry her.” Anne laughed. “She’ll keep him in line.”

“He’s eleven.” Sarah shook her head. “Twelve, never mind. Still too young for love and marriage and all that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be old enough.”

“You seem more like the kind of person who would elope.” Anne hummed thoughtfully. “But you have to promise to come to my wedding, alright?”

“You’re my little sister.” Sarah said with a smile. “Why would I deny myself the opportunity to embarrass you in public?”

“I don’t know why you think I’d be anything less than the epitome of elegance and perfection on my wedding day.” Anne returned her smile. “I will be, if only to spite you for saying that.”

“I’m sure I’ll find something.” Sarah said. “Isn’t that what older sisters are for?”

“I wouldn’t know- I’ve only got the manual for little sisters.” Anne replied breezily.

“What a shame.” Sarah said. “I suppose I’ll have to lead by example.”

“Well, don’t worry so much.” Anne said quietly. “It’s a pretty good example.”


	12. A Brief Detour Into Ancient History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s one thing you learn about kids, as a parent.” James said. “Kids are resilient. They can survive a hell of a lot more than people give them credit for. Anju has not only survived this, but she’s climbing right back up to where she used to be. And I think, at the end of the day, as long as both of you are alive… That’s something to build off of. That’s where forgiveness starts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We take a break from the plot to dig up some old memories. The Potter family has been through a lot, in the past and the present, and sometimes history repeats itself. Hashing out old successes is sometimes the best way to find a solution to a new problem.
> 
> Next week, we get an update on the sportsball, Drew and Sarah have a moment, and we finally find out the answer to a riddle you've all forgotten about.
> 
> -S&L

Drew stood hesitantly in the doorway of James’ study, hands clasped tightly in front of him. At his desk, his father was writing a letter, pausing every few lines to smile fondly at a framed photograph on his desk. The frame was one Drew had not seen before -- it was much newer than the others, and not crafted using popsicle sticks, like all the others on his father’s desk.

“Appa? Can I talk to you?” Drew asked.

“Sure, kid.” James said, waving him over. “What’s the issue?”

Drew stepped inside after glancing up and down the hallway, and then closed the heavy wooden door behind him.

“So, I messed up.” He said, turning to face his father. “Big time.”

“We all mess up sometimes, kiddo.” James said with a shrug, leaning back in his chair. “What’s up? Tell your dad.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here.” Drew said with a frown. “To… tell you about it. It would be weird if I had just told you I messed up and then walked away, I think. Except, Hari Anna would definitely do that.”

“Hari does a lot of things.” James scoffed. “Doesn’t mean you have to also.”

“Okay, right.” Drew frowned again, staring down at the floor. “I think it’s my fault that Anju has been… acting the way she has.”

“The locket.” James nodded knowingly. “Not your fault. You didn’t know what it was.”

“I found it in Uncle Sirius’ old house! I should have known there was something wrong with it!” He said, pressing his hands against his face.

“If we’re arguing who should have known, isn’t it my fault, then?” James challenged. “I should have checked it for dark magic instead of just assuming it was safe if you’d picked it up and were fine.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Drew shook his head. “I gave it to her. I saw it, I thought ‘Anju would love that, it’s shiny and fancy’, and then I just handed it over!”

“Well, I didn’t stop you. At no point did I check it. Same with your mother. We let her continue wearing it without questioning why she’d changed so much. Aren’t we also at fault, then?” James asked. “Seems to me that all of us can be blamed, for either doing something or not doing something. Best way to handle a situation like that is to put ourselves and our feelings aside and to move forward.”

“I don’t think I can.” Drew said. “Every time I try and get around it in my head it feels like I swallowed something heavy and it’s just sitting in my gut. I’m too scared to even apologize to her.”

“When your uncles and I were young…” James paused, rubbing his forehead. “Your Uncle Sirius made a series of very bad decisions that almost ended in someone getting badly, badly hurt. They could’ve been killed, had I not stepped in. And after that, your Uncle Remus felt exactly like you do now. He didn’t do anything wrong, and yet, he ended up being painted as the villain, even though all he did was trust the people around him and want the best for them. And, just like now, I was in a position then where I didn’t know what was going on until the last possible moment. Back then, we reminded him he did nothing wrong until it stuck. It worked then, and it’ll work now.”

“But it’s just me, here. If anyone is doing the forgiving it’d be Anju, but I… I don’t even know if she can. I don’t think I’d blame her if she didn’t.” Drew admitted. “I messed up a big part of her life.”

“There’s one thing you learn about kids, as a parent.” James said. “Kids are resilient. They can survive a hell of a lot more than people give them credit for. Anju has not only survived this, but she’s climbing right back up to where she used to be. And I think, at the end of the day, as long as both of you are alive… That’s something to build off of. That’s where forgiveness starts.”

“I don’t have any right to ask her for forgiveness.” Drew said after a moment of thought. “But I don’t know what to do to earn it.”

“The easy part of that is that she sets the finish line, for what earning it means.” James said. “So you just have to carry on being yourself. In my experience, when a pretty girl gets mad at you, you’ll have a proper chance to apologize in about a year’s time. So one year on the clock, I suppose.”

“Anju isn’t pretty, Appa, she’s my sister.” Drew said, smiling weakly.

“Of course she’s pretty, she looks just like your mother.” James grinned. “And we all know your mother’s pretty. Plus, no child of mine is going to be hard to look at, right?”

“Madhu’s hard to look at, considering no one can ever find him.” Drew shrugged.

“He’s his own little miracle. God’s hand in our lives.” James said fondly. “Regardless, the point. She decides when she’s going to forgive you, but the important thing is that you forgive yourself. Even if you don’t feel you deserve it, it’ll be some help, later on.”

“Am I allowed to forgive myself on a delayed schedule?” Drew asked hesitantly. “Cause I might have to continue wallowing in guilt for a week or two before I start working on emotional stuff.”

“You are my boy.” James chuckled. “Yeah. Just don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Thanks, Appa.” Drew said.

“No problem, kid.” James smiled. “You’ll do the right thing eventually. I know you will.”

* * *

“So, what is this visit for, Drew?” Remus asked, as he heard the telltale shuffling of feet in his doorway. As an eleven year old, he’d quickly learned to tell his friends apart by the sound and rhythm of their footsteps, and as his friends’ children grew, it was a logical step to do the same. If anything, it had helped along the rumor that he had eyes in the back of his head, which he was endlessly thankful for. He scrubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, leaving a box half filled to turn toward Drew. “Some last minute reading you need explained?” He teased. “Or just bored?”

“Oh, come on, I come hang out with you all the time!” Drew protested, pouting like James would have, at that age. It was almost like it was 1971 all over again, except that the boy Remus remembered begging to be let into Remus’ thoughts, Remus’ life, was now splitting the job of tugging at all of Remus’ heartstrings with his children.

“Of course.” Remus nodded. He walked to his bed and sat down, patting a spot on the mattress beside him. “Come on. You’ve got a question in your head, and you’re dying to ask it. You and your father both make that face when you’re thinking something.”

“I hope it’s not hard to look at.” Drew said, sitting down beside his uncle. “I just went to talk to Appa, and he… told me a story, from when you guys were all in Hogwarts.”

“He did?” Remus sighed. “What did he say? I promise you only eighty, maybe eighty five, percent of it is true, if it came out of James Potter’s mouth.”

“Well… He said Uncle Sirius did something that almost got someone killed, and you blamed yourself for it.” Drew said hesitantly.

“He did, did he?” Remus frowned.

It wasn’t like James to bring that up. Once the issue had been settled, and Sirius had apologized a thousand different ways, at Remus’ request, they’d declared the topic off limits. Remus, then, had not even wanted to think of the fact that a friend, someone he trusted, could have thrown away his safety so callously, just for a moment’s amusement. And James had spent those horrible months leading up to Sirius’ apology close to Remus’ side, agreeing with every choice Remus had made. If he had brought it up now, it was only because the situation merited opening up that can of worms again.

“You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want. I didn’t ask Appa about details, but…” Drew shrugged. “I dunno. I feel like I might be Uncle Sirius in that situation, right about now.”

“It’s time I talked about it, I think.” Remus nodded slowly. “James always seems to be speeding people along, in that regard. An unfortunate habit, but a useful one.”

“Unless they aren’t ready to talk about it.” Drew shrugged.

“It’s been twenty years, Drew.” Remus laughed softly. It still hurt to remember, but the old feelings were dulled now, their sharp edges worn away by the passage of time. What had been bright flashes of pain, knife cuts of jealousy, as a teenager were now merely uncomfortable reminders of a time long past. “I can talk now. I probably should, if you’re feeling guilty enough to compare yourself to Sirius.”

“Well… I dunno. I feel like Anju could have died.” Drew frowned. “I didn’t mean to do it, obviously, but I also feel like I didn’t try hard enough to figure out what was going wrong with her.”

“Anne is much like your father. When something is going wrong with them, they need someone like Sarah or your mother, someone who will hold them accountable for every word that comes out of their mouth, to drag them out of wherever they’ve chosen to wallow.” Remus said fondly. “Your father, like Anne, never ceases to surprise me, though. He saved Severus Snape’s life, that night. Did he tell you that?”

“What?” Drew looked up at him, eyes wide in shock. “But… Appa hates Snape! He’s… He’s a murderer! He joined the Death Eaters!”

“Your Uncle Sirius… he was misguided. He was young and impulsive, we all were, and… he told Severus that he could see something interesting if he followed the tunnel through the roots of the Whomping Willow on the full moon. But what he found at the end of that tunnel was…”

“... You. He found you.” Drew stared up at Remus, horror dawning on him. Remus couldn’t have been any older than Harry, at that point, and Sirius had… had used him and his most closely guarded secret to hurt someone.

“He found me.” Remus confirmed, with a stiff nod. “And I was in no shape to restrain myself.” He smiled tiredly. “We didn’t have Wolfsbane then, no matter how hard your mother was willing it into existence. Wasn’t enough of me in there to stop him, to tell Snape to turn back. Luckily, I had your father to do it for me. Sirius obviously hadn’t let him in on it. Must’ve been just him and Peter. Your father was spending most of his time with your mother, by then, when he wasn’t drilling the Quidditch team into the ground. Sirius was feeling… neglected. Unfortunately, your uncle learned early on that causing a scene was the best way to get attention from the people you love.” Remus shook his head. “Sometimes just speaking to them is enough, but Sirius… we all forgot no one had ever told him that.”

“That’s… that’s really sad.” Drew turned to frown at the floor, thinking of his ever cheerful uncle, and of the dark and dusty house he had grown up in. “But what he did was… it was terrible, and harmful, and dangerous. Why did he think that was a good idea?”

“Sirius was prone to bad decisions, especially when he felt abandoned.” Remus said. “And he thought James was drifting away from him, from all of us. Your mother… Petunia had just sent quite the letter, and he thought he should be there for her, so he sat out a full moon. Sirius… Sirius was furious. He thought James would never come back, that your mother had somehow stolen him away.” Remus chuckled. “Teenagers, right? Everything’s the end of the world.”

“I’m a teenager.” Drew pointed out.

“Not yet, almost. Don’t rush that. Not much to look forward to.” Remus said. “You’re alright.”

“So then what happened?” Drew asked. “Appa saved Snape, and…?”

“We weren’t the same after that. All of us. Sirius was inconsolable, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him. Your father was always on hand to reassure me that it wasn’t my job. That was the first time any of us saw him truly mad at Sirius, you know?” Remus shook his head. “Until then, James being mad at Sirius was always something we joked about. But that, throwing any one of us on the line… That was something your father couldn’t let slide. I’ve always admired him for that.”

Drew swallowed around the knot in this throat as he thought about how he had compared himself to Sirius.

“Did… Were you guys ever friends again, after that?” Drew asked nervously.

“It took awhile. I forgave Sirius eventually, and so did your father, but things were different. It changed all of us, in some way. I felt betrayed, and so did Sirius. Every one of us felt betrayed, save for Peter, but maybe that would have done him some good.” Remus said. “Your father ended up Head Boy because of it, I’d say.”

“If you could go back and change what happened… would you?” Drew asked.

“I wouldn’t.” Remus said, shaking his head. “It was horrible at the time, and maybe I’m saying this as an old man, twenty years removed from the pain of it, but I think it made us who we are. At this point, it’s too much of who I am to imagine myself without it.”

Drew nodded slowly, taking a moment to digest the new information. “Do you… need help packing?”

“I don’t need it, but I’d like the company.” Remus stood up, rolling his shoulders. They cracked, and he smiled sheepishly at Drew. “Come on, then. You can keep telling me about this girl your sisters are planning a witch hunt for.”

“Oh, no, Uncle Remus, I’m the subject of the witch hunt.” Drew assured him, getting to his feet. “Shin-ji, however, is absolutely amazing.”

“You remind me of your father far too much sometimes.” Remus said, while placing a stack of books in one of the boxes in the corner.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

* * *

“Appa, Amma, we should talk.” Harry folded his hands in his lap. It took every ounce of strength within him to keep from shaking. His parents were going to be furious. “This is-- You’re not going to like this, but I’m asking you to keep in mind that I am freely telling you this information and you should not ground me because I’m cooperating.”

Lily stared blankly at her son for a long moment. “Are you doing drugs? You’re doing drugs, aren’t you? Oh Merlin, I knew it.” She groaned. “I should have known! James, you remember what we were like at that age-- why did I think Hari would be any better?”

“I never did drugs?” James frowned in confusion. “Where do you even get drugs?”

“Seamus Finnigan.” Harry said, then realized the error of his ways. “Anyway.”

“He’s doing drugs!” Lily groaned. “What kind, Hari? It better not be anything serious. Is it weed? Please tell me it’s weed.”

“MOTHER!” Harry yelped, appalled. “Even if I was, I wouldn’t tell you!”

“Why not? It’s alright, sweetheart, we’ve all smoked a little weed.” She assured him.

“I haven’t?” James blinked in surprise.

“Except your father, because he’s boring.” Lily amended.

“I repeat, I wouldn’t tell you if I smoked any weed. Which I do not. We do not take down the magical smoke alarms at night. No way. Why would we do that?” Harry laughed nervously. “We are wholesome, wonderful children that go to bed on time.”

“I wish I was dead.” James said mournfully. “My firstborn son, a drug addict.”

“They have magical smoke alarms?” Lily asked.

“I’m guessing they got installed for a reason.” Harry said. “Anyway, the real topic. Dumbledore.”

“Is he doing drugs, too?” Lily asked. “Harry, if the headmaster of Hogwarts is giving you drugs, you have to tell me so I have an excuse to try and get him fired.”

“Nope.” Harry said. “Dumbledore’s just… I don’t know. It’s weird.” He scratched the back of his head. “He’s been… showing me memories? I saw-- I saw Voldemort, as a child, in an orphanage, and I saw Dumbledore finding him for the first time? And telling him he had magic. And he was-- he was already bad, then, already stealing things. He wants me to talk to Slughorn to find out something about Voldemort he doesn’t know, something he doesn’t already have a memory for. Slughorn was close to him, he said, one of his favorite professors.”

“... What?”

“Slughorn, he-- he knows something that Dumbledore wants to know.” Harry frowned. “And Dumbledore says he’ll collect me and I’ll get close to him, you know? And then I can ask, or I can find out?”

Lily’s expression darkened immediately. “He has no right to use you like that, Hari.” She told him, making as though to stand. “And I’m going to tell him exactly that.”

“How is he--” James trailed off, shaking his head. “This is completely unacceptable! That conniving old man!”

“Hari, you don’t have to do a single thing he says, do you understand?” Lily told him. “Dumbledore is going to use you like you’re a pawn and then get rid of you once you’re not useful.”

“I just-- I want to know what’s happening out there!” Harry said, fists clenched in his lap. “I know you try your best to tell me, but I don’t know what’s going on the second I’m out of this house. No one there tries. If I work with him, then I know something.”

“Hari, sweetheart…” Lily let out a soft sigh. “All you need to know is that we’re all going to be fine. I promise. Your father and I… we have a plan.”

“Well, what’s the plan?” Harry asked. “Beyond the leaving part, I know that.”

“The plan is for you not to let Dumbledore use you like a puppet.” Lily said, crossing her arms.

“I just-- after this locket, I have to know what’s happening!” Harry argued. “What if there’s more things like that out there? What if the boys get hurt this time? First it was Charu, and now it’s Anju and-- I can’t let them keep taking the fall for me! It’s me he wants, right? Then why can’t he just man up and come after me like he used to!”

“The goal is having him not come for you at all! Any of you!” Lily said. “None of you have a choice in this, Hari, they aren’t suffering to save you. Putting yourself in more danger isn’t going to keep them safe.”

“All of us are in danger anyway.” Harry said. “It doesn’t change a single thing whether I put myself there or not. I’m still going to be there. Might as well make the best of my little holiday in hell.”

“You know as well as we do that Dumbledore isn’t to be trusted.” Lily said. “Hari, as much as you feel like you’re responsible for all of this, you aren’t. You’re just a child.”

“I’ll be seventeen in a few months!” Harry said. “Don’t you think it’s not worth protecting me from everything, at this point? I’m practically an adult.”

“You’re acting like we don’t know what we’re doing. We were your age during the last war.” Lily reminded him, her voice hard. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you were.” Harry sighed. “I know. But this time-- He’s had more time to think, he’s got too much on his side now.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s different, this time around, if Dumbledore’s words are anything to go on. But I can’t trust him either! I don’t know what’s happening at all! All I know is that every single adult in my life thinks I’m too little to take an active role in this war that, surprise, is going to involve me whether you want to or not!”

“The point is that you don’t have to!” She said. “Hari, I can’t… we can’t lose you. Please, please… just trust me, alright?”

“I need to do something.” Harry said. “Appa, you get what that’s like. You know. You joined the Order as soon as you could!”

“No, I don’t.” James said. “I joined the Order out of necessity, and so did your mother. I went looking for trouble, but the trouble I ran into was other kids my age, not a bloodthirsty racist murderer.”

“Ignoring the fact that several of those kids ended up as bloodthirsty racist murderers.” Lily grimaced.

“You’re on a different playing field, Hari.” James said solemnly. “You’re right. This is a different war than the one we fought. There’s more risk now, and we have to play it much safer because of it. And part of playing it safer is stopping these sessions with Dumbledore.”

“And if I don’t?” Harry asked.

“I’m homeschooling Anju. Don’t think I won’t do it to you, too.” Lily said, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Do you really want to homeschool me?” Harry asked, batting his eyelashes. “You remember what it was like, right? Having me at home all the time.”

“A small sacrifice, if it means keeping you safe.” Lily said.

“Gonna be hard doing that, when he finally makes his move.” Harry said. “Doesn’t it feel odd? That he’s been quiet so long? I’m just… always waiting for something.”

“So are we, son.” James shook his head. “So are we.”


	13. Feels Good, Feels Organic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey.” Sarah said, with a sharp nod in his direction. “What’s going on?”
> 
> “Nothing.” Drew said, shifting awkwardly. “I was just coming out to practice, a little. Guess we had the same idea.”
> 
> “I’m not getting a Bludger out for you.” She said, amused. “If you want to play, you’re going to have to play with the ball that actually matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update on some little ones, sibling bonding galore, AND a new mini-arc? We're giving with both hands this week!
> 
> Stay tuned for next week, where we see the most important Quidditch game the Potter family's had in years and the resulting fallout.
> 
> -S&L

Anne glanced up as her mother entered her father’s study. She was sprawled sideways across his large chair, a first year Charms book held loosely in her grip and Satan purring contentedly in her lap. She’d spent the better part of the last hour in here, occasionally glancing at the clock and wondering what time her father would be home.

“There you are.” Lily smiled. “I was beginning to think you’d run off.”

“I just wanted someplace quiet to study.” She shrugged, gaze returning to her book as she absently ran her hand over Satan’s fur.

“The whole house is quiet, now that your siblings have gone back to school.” Lily pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but… it feels weird, the rest of the house being quiet.” She said, wrinkling her nose as she mulled over her own words. “This room is supposed to be quiet.”

“That’s because your father charmed it. It’s basically sound-proof.” Her mother said.

“That explains a lot.” Anne said, flipping a page in her book. She was sleeping better these days, but there was still something cagey in her eyes if Lily spoke in certain tones of voice. She was more prone to disappearing for long stretches of time- almost like Matt, when he was overwhelmed.

“Have you finished the transfiguration essay? If you need more time, that’s fine.” Lily said, hoping to strike up some sort of conversation.

“No, it’s done.” Anne hummed, barely glancing at her mother. “I left it in the living room with the Potions kit.”

“Ah, alright. Are you almost done with the chapter? I can make us some lunch, if you’d like.” Lily said, turning to exit the room. Anne immediately scrambled to her feet, causing the cat to let out a displeased yowl and scamper between Lily’s legs on his way out of the room.

“No! Nope, nu-uh. You are not allowed in the kitchen without supervision!” She exclaimed, her blank expression morphing into something almost angry as she pointed her book at Lily.

“Oh, really?” Lily laughed. “I’m not that bad. I’m capable of making some sandwiches, at least.”

“You will be leaving lunch to me, young lady.” Anne insisted, already stepping past her mother and heading towards the kitchen.

“I’m your mother.” Lily pointed out, more bemused than anything else.

“And I love you,” Anne agreed easily, “but you can’t cook.”

“You’d think I would be better at it, considering I make potions for a living.” Lily hummed, taking a seat at the kitchen table as Anne got to work.

She had set her textbook down on the counter and tied her hair back before pulling out supplies for something far more elaborate than sandwiches. People were always pointing out how much she looked like Lily, but in this moment all she could see was James. It was in the divot where her eyebrows dipped together as she concentrated, in the way she held her shoulders and flicked her wrist.

For all that she was Lily’s daughter, Anne had always taken after James in the ways that mattered.

“Honestly, I don’t get it. Cooking and potions are practically the same thing.” Anne said, getting to work at the stove. “Different, weirder ingredients for potions, but that should just mean cooking is simpler.”

“The best I can do is use a microwave.” Lily shrugged. “Your Aunt Petunia always wanted to do the cooking when we were younger, and then James did, so I never had to try.”

“Well, let’s hope nothing changes about that, because at this point it’s probably too late to learn.” Anne tutted.

“I guess what they say about teaching old dogs new tricks is true.” Lily sighed, leaning on her hand as a smile tugged at her lips.

“If it keeps you out of the kitchen, then yes.” Anne shook her head, ignoring the strand of hair that escaped her ponytail and fell into her face.

“Just for that, I’m actually going to make you finish that Charms chapter after lunch.” Lily laughed as Anne groaned in displeasure.

* * *

Drew trotted across the Hogwarts grounds, the bottom of his robes heavy with snow and water. The sun was low in the sky, signalling the rapidly approaching curfew, but he ignored it. He had been thinking a lot since Christmas, and he found the best place to do that was anywhere far, far away from the Gryffindor common room.

First years weren’t allowed to bring brooms to Hogwarts, but he’d taken to borrowing the school brooms from the equipment shed when he knew the Quidditch pitch would be empty. He never felt more comfortable than when he was in the sky.

He was surprised to find the pitch already taken when he arrived, however, by none other than his sister and Ginny Weasley. Sarah, clad in one of Harry’s old Little League jerseys, was blocking nearly every shot Ginny sent her way. Drew was obviously not the only Potter who had spent their first year practicing on stolen brooms-- Sarah had improved a lot since he’d last played with her.

He stood near the edge of the pitch, neck craned back painfully in order to watch the pair of girls in action. He spun the handle of the bat he had brought along in his hand, wanting nothing more than to join them, but not wanting to interrupt.

Ginny noticed him first, waving as she waited for Sarah to throw the Quaffle back to her. Once she’d caught it, she tucked it under one arm and flew back down to the ground to greet him.

Drew smiled at her as she landed, offering a quick wave. “Hey, Ginny. Ron was wondering where you were running off to after dinner.” He said.

Sarah joined them a few minutes later, pulling off her helmet as soon as her feet touched the ground. The motion was marked by a practiced sense of grace, one Drew knew Sarah had to have inherited from their father.

“Hey.” She said, with a sharp nod in his direction. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Drew said, shifting awkwardly. “I was just coming out to practice, a little. Guess we had the same idea.”

“I’m not getting a Bludger out for you.” Sarah said, amused. “If you want to play, you’re going to have to play with the ball that actually matters.” She tossed the ball at Drew, who caught it easily. “Better than I remember. Not bad.”

“I’m a Beater, not a Chaser.” Drew said, tucking the Quaffle beneath his arm so he could toss his bat aside. “If you wanted to practice, you should have called Dad. He was always happy to help out during Little League.”

“I know he would, but I should try and prepare for people my own age. Right, Ginny?” Sarah asked, with a cocky smirk at her best friend.

“As if it’s going to do you any good, Potter.” Ginny grinned. “Gryffindor will kick your ass, no matter how much practice you get in.”

“I can’t wait to try out for Gryffindor’s team next year.” Drew admitted with a smile. “I’ll get to play with Harry, and you, too, Ginny! The only thing that’d make it better would be if you were on the team, too, Sarah.” He laughed, remembering when they had played together during Little League Quidditch. They had made a formidable defensive pair, considering how little they had been.

“Well, that won’t be an option anymore.” Sarah sighed. “At least we play on the same side when we do Potters versus Weasleys.”

“Too bad there aren’t enough of you to make a full team.” Ginny said, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. “Since Anne and Matt don’t play, that is.”

“I’m glad Anne doesn’t play.” Sarah chuckled. “Drew, can you imagine?”

“I’ve thought about it, actually. She might be tiny, but she’s got a lot of fire, so I think she’d make a pretty good Beater. I’m stronger, but she’s got more of that spiteful attitude to spur her on.” Drew faltered slightly at the thought of his sister, but forged on. “As for Matt, he’s probably better on the sidelines.”

“He’s an excellent cheerleader.” Sarah agreed. “I think we should get Anne on a broom, though. If we can convince her. The two of you together would be unbeatable.”

“Un-BEAT-able.” Drew giggled. “Good one.”

“Let’s get moving then.” Sarah said, climbing onto her broom and kicking off. “You’re a good shot, if I remember correctly, so it’ll be better with two of you out there.”

Drew stared at her in surprise before his face broke out into a smile like the sun rising. “Alright!” He said, grabbing the practice broom he’d retrieved from the shed earlier.

“I was talking about Ginny.” Sarah called down. “She’s the good shot. You’re the two of you.”

“Nope, you already said it, no take-backs!” He whooped, already rising into the air.

“Try and score then!” She challenged, yelling over the sound of Ginny’s laughter.

Ginny tossed the ball high into the air, and Drew swung his arm, feeling the jolt all the way up through his shoulder as the bat cracked against the Quaffle, sending it soaring towards his sister.

Sarah barely got her fingers on the Quaffle, pushing it away from the hoop as hard as she could, and Drew ducked down and swung to the side in order to catch it again. The split-second reflexes were practically trained into the two of them, after years of practice in the backyard. The worn targets were still set up, even now, and they had all spent countless hours with James, dressed in his official Puddlemere robes as he and Harry threw quaffles at Sarah, or at Drew, with his tiny beater’s club.

“You’ll have to try harder than that!” Sarah grinned.

She looked like she was home, here in the sky. The sun was setting behind her, the dying light catching on her wavy hair, pieces of which had escaped her ponytail and fell into her face. The sweat on her cheeks only served to make her wild smile seem rightfully earned. She was happiest in the air, just like Drew.

It was something they shared.

Ginny swooped past him, circling the goalposts. “Throw the ball, kid!”

The blur of her red hair made him think of Anne, for a moment, and the way she looked the few times they had convinced her to play. She always insisted she hated sports, but the two of them really were unbeatable when they played together. They worked on a level only the Weasley twins seemed to understand. The perfect pair. He wanted to feel that way again, even though he might not deserve it. He wasn’t sure he even knew her at all, these days, or that she wanted him to.

It hurt, knowing that he was at fault for what happened, and that he hadn’t done nearly enough to reach out to her when she needed him most. That had always been what Anne did. She grabbed her brothers by the ear and dragged them into trouble- together. Always together. If Drew was upset, or if Matt had decided to tuck himself away for too long, she always took it on herself to organize some sort of distraction.

And all Drew had done was let her fall further into herself.

He shook his head, hefting the ball more securely into his grip. He tossed it into the air, losing himself in the practiced swing of the bat.

Ginny dove for it, grabbing it from the air as Sarah lunged to protect the goal, using the momentum to spin in midair and lob it towards the next hoop. “Take that!” She whooped.

“My left side’s always been worse.” Sarah sighed, scowling. She pointed the nose of her broom down, diving sharply down toward the pitch before levelling out at the last minute to scoop up the ball easily. She resumed her spot in front of the hoops, ball in hand, looking out over the pitch like a queen surveying her kingdom. “Alright. Which one of you wants to be next?”

“Wow, you’re getting intense about this.” Drew laughed, flying in a lazy circle. “What’re you preparing for?”

“Who knows?” Sarah shrugged. “The fun thing about being a backup is that you never know.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait!” He turned his head so quickly he felt it crack. “You made backup?! And you didn’t tell anyone?!”

“I didn’t think it was important.” Sarah tossed the ball to Drew, who caught it with ease. “There was...” She trailed off uncomfortably. “There was a lot happening. It seemed extraneous.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I definitely disagree!” Drew shouted, prompting a laugh from Ginny. “Sarah, that’s amazing!”

“It’s nothing.” Sarah said bashfully. “Anyone could make backup. Maybe if I’d made starter, it’d be worth talking about, but I hardly even play.”

“Nope!” Ginny said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. “You’re only a second year, and the starter has been on the team for three years, now. You’re awesome, Sarah! This makes you a shoe-in for starter, once Elliott graduates next year.”

“You’re amazing! Super amazing! Like, better-than-the-rest-of-us-put-together amazing!” Drew insisted. “Second years barely ever make the team, even as backups!”

“I guess.” Sarah admitted. “It isn’t too common, but in our family --”

“In our family, you kick ass!” Drew insisted. “Appa and Amma are gonna be so excited! Do they know, already?”

Sarah shook her head. “I haven’t told either of them.”

“That was last week’s homework!” Ginny shouted, looking scandalized.

“You assign friendship homework…?” Drew looked up at her, eyebrows knitting together.

“Have you met your sister?” She asked, drifting downwards.

“Fair.” Drew admitted. Sarah had a tendency to keep the most important things to herself.

“If we’re not playing, we might as well call it quits for the night.” Sarah said. It was beginning to get dark, and it was best that they all got inside before anyone caught them. “We’ll sneak a snack first.”

“From where?” Drew frowned. “The Great Hall is closed, this time of night.”

“He has much to learn.” Sarah said imperiously.

“The secrets of Hogwarts must be passed on to the new generation.” Ginny said seriously.

“I’m only a year younger than you, Sarah.” Drew rolled his eyes.

“Is this toddler acting like he’s an adult?” Ginny gasped.

“Banish him.” Sarah said flatly.

“But to where?” Ginny hummed.

“You pick.” Sarah shrugged, before flying down to the grass to dismount.

“To the Hufflepuff dorm, then, to get your brother. It’s near the kitchens, anyways. Might as well.” Ginny shrugged, following her friend to the ground.

“Alright!” Drew chirped. “Some rebellion will be good for him.”

Ginny bounded off towards the castle as Drew dismounted and turned to look at his sister. She was standing there, watching him. “What’s up?” He asked.

“Thanks. For, uh, being good about the team thing.” Sarah said, seeming rather embarrassed about having said it at all. “I just-- I don’t know if I’ll get to play, and the game against Gryffindor is the final, so I’m a bit worried about what happens if I do have to and--”

“Hey, don’t worry.” He reached out, patting her arm. “We’ll all be cheering for you, okay? You’re gonna do great. I mean, I’ll be cheering for Gryffindor, too, but mostly you.”

“I can’t win if Gryffindor does, silly.” Sarah said, cuffing him on the back of the head. “House loyalties are supposed to come first, right?”

“Everyone wins as long as we all have fun!” Drew shouted, parroting something James had often told his children.

Sarah grimaced. “Let’s hurry and get Matt. He knows the truth.”

“What truth?” Drew asked innocently. “Appa would never lie to us.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Sarah said with a shrug. “We all win if we have fun."

* * *

“Oh my god.” Harry said, as he slid into his usual seat at the Gryffindor table. “Did you hear? We’re facing Ravenclaw’s backup on Sunday. The one nobody knows about.”

“If a certain captain let us spy on the other team’s practices…” Ron shrugged.

“Literally no one else does that.” Harry groaned, slamming his palms down on the table so hard his plate rattled. “No one else, Ron, so I’m not going to be the one who does.”

“Hey, I’m just saying that I’d rather not lose.” Ron said, pointing his fork at Harry.

“No, I just--” Harry threw his head back, scowling. “Do we know anything about this kid?”

“She’s young, but really good, from what I’ve put together.” Ginny said, winking at Drew when Harry wasn’t looking. Drew giggled softly behind his hands.

“Thanks.” Harry sighed. “That sure tells us a lot.”

“Is she better than me?” Ron asked his sister.

“A blind toddler on a toy broom would be better than you, Ronald.” Ginny deadpanned.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Ron rolled his eyes.

“Quidditch isn’t the only thing that matters.” Hermione chastised. “There are other equally important things to focus on, like our Apparition lessons.”

“Don’t remind me.” Ron groaned, propping an elbow on the table. He quickly retracted his arm when his sleeve slid down, revealing the winding scars he’d gained from the sentient brains in the Department of Mysteries last year. “It’s torture! How am I supposed to remember the three D’s? Determination, determination, and… what, dick?”

“Deliberation! It’s deliberation!” Hermione shuddered. “Ronald, honestly.”

Ron snickered at her horrified expression, prompting Ginny to dissolve into giggles.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next year.” Harry said morosely.

When Ron and Hermione had signed up, at the end of last term, he’d eagerly gone to the sheet with them, hoping to put his name down. Unfortunately, thanks to his late summer birthday, he’d been barred-- he wouldn’t be seventeen by the next test. Ron and Hermione had promised to teach him everything they learned, and Harry had taken that promise for truth, as they’d done a whole lot of illegal stuff already, as it was, so this would definitely not be where they drew the line.

“You aren’t still on about that, are you?” Ron looked up from his plate.

“It’ll be time for you to take them soon enough!” Hermione said. “And, by then, at least one of us will have passed, so you’ll have useful knowledge about the test and its structure.”

“Ten sickles it’ll be me.” Ron said.

“A certain degree of optimism is important.” Hermione allowed.

Harry slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Hey!” Ron frowned. “I’m not that bad!”

“Nice detour, but can we get back to what really matters?” Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Quidditch.”

“Betrayed by my own friends. And my sister!” Ron groaned. “I’m gonna fail the apparition test because no one believes in me, and now I’m going to lose to some baby Keeper who’s never even played a real game before!”

“And I’m gonna love every second of it.” Ginny agreed.

“Honestly, you don’t know what a Keeper will be like until they’ve been game tested.” Harry said. “Unless you’ve played with them, you can’t know whether they’re good or not.” A realization dawned upon him. “You’re holding out on us. You know who it is, don’t you?”

“Go to hell.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “You’ll never get it out of me.”

“If she doesn’t want to tell, don’t force her.” Hermione said. “Both Ginny and whoever this Ravenclaw is deserve a right to their own privacy. Besides, it’s nice to see. Members of opposing teams helping each other is exactly the type of inter-house cooperation the founders wanted to see.”

“Okay, but can’t you help Ravenclaw at a different time?” Ron begged his sister. “Like, maybe not right before we play them for the CUP?!”

“He does have a point.” Harry agreed. “She didn’t have to help them now.”

“Boys.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “So short sighted.”

“Boys are disgusting.” Ginny agreed.


	14. Sarah Potter Knows Her Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two bros, chillin' in a closet, five feet apart 'cause they're not gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the '97 Quidditch Cup goes to... Gryffindor or Ravenclaw! Unfortunately, it can't go to both, or we would've found a way to make it so. The year winds down, and we're here to capture all the big moments.
> 
> -S&L

Matt was hunkered down on one of the Hufflepuff benches, a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. It was still rather chilly out, and the overcast sky and harsh winds had most students who had decided to attend the Quidditch game bundling themselves in ridiculous amounts of layers.

Bertie sat beside him, dressed in a too large Liverpool sweatshirt that he’d stolen out of his mother’s closet during the Christmas holidays. He’d rolled up the sleeves several times so he could still use his hands, which Matt found hilarious.

The teams had only just taken to the air, and Matt briefly wished he’d brought binoculars. Harry’s face when he saw that Sarah was the backup keeper must have been a hilarious mixture of shock and pride. Anne was probably laughing herself sick, from her spot in the faculty booth.

“Must be weird, watching your siblings play against each other.” Bertie said, while the captains, Harry for Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw named Cho Chang, shake hands. He’d borrowed a Ravenclaw flag from a friend in Charms Club, and was rolling the flagpole between his hands, giggling every time the end of the cloth smacked him in the face.

“Oh, not really.” Matt said with a smile. “They play each other all the time, at home. This is just more official.”

“I guess that's true!” Bertie nodded thoughtfully. “So, seeing as you know them both…” He leaned closer, a conspiratorial smirk on his face. “Should we find Gryffindor flags? Or did I cash in on the right friendship?”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t know anyone else on their teams, besides Ron… And, honestly, I’ve never understood Quidditch.” He admitted.

“Me either, honestly.” Bertie said. “Mum’s more of a football fan, and Dad’s never liked Quidditch.”

“It would probably be mean to take sides, anyways.” Matt said. “I’m usually the neutral party, at home.”

“I wouldn't like picking one over the other, if I were you.” Bertie said. “You're not like that. Plus, they seem pretty scary.”

“They both have their strong suits.” Matt agreed. “And they both hate losing.”

“So we’ll find the winner afterward?” Bertie asked.

“I’ll probably find Sarah, first.” He said. “She likes to say I’m her favorite, but I know it isn’t true. She loves all of us.”

“Must be nice.” Bertie mused aloud. “Haven't got any siblings myself.”

“I’m really proud of her.” Matt said, watching his sister snatch the Quaffle out of the air, tossing it to a circling teammate. “She’s worked hard for this.”

“She seems quite good.” Bertie said. “Don't know much about Quidditch, but if she's their backup, Ravenclaw is clearly ahead.”

“She is! A lot of my siblings are, actually. Anne and I don’t like sports, very much, but I’m sure she’d be great if she gave it a try.” Matt smiled. “I’m scared of heights- I could never hold my own on a broom.”

“How did flying go last term then?” Bertie asked with a frown.

“Not well.” Matt admitted.

“That's not great.” Bertie sighed. “I don't like it much either. Feet were made for the ground. No need to put them anywhere else!”

“That’s not what my dad says.” Matt giggled.

“Yeah, but your dad’s a Quidditch legend here! Of course he wouldn't say anything bad about the sport!” Bertie said, awestruck. “Have you seen the Quidditch Cup records? His name’s everywhere!”

Matt shrugged. “I know that he played, and that he was really good. Harry and Drew are better with statistic stuff, though.” He replied.

“He captained the Gryffindors to two Cups and played on two other cup winning teams. No wonder he played professionally.” Bertie said. “I had to shine all four of them for a detention.”

“I kind of remember mum taking us to his games, when we were little.” Matt said, glancing back to the field. “I was mostly just confused as to why he couldn’t come out to the stands and play with us.”

“Did you like those?” Bertie asked curiously. “You don't seem to like crowds or noise, and there's probably loads of that, if even a school game is this loud.”

“Well. we got to sit with the rest of the player’s families, most of the time. It was a little calmer there.” Matt said. “But still pretty loud…”

On the pitch, the whistle heralding the beginning of the game was blown, and Ginny Weasley took control of the Quaffle. She sped toward the Ravenclaw hoops until a Bludger knocked the Quaffle out of her hand. It fell nearly into the hands of a Ravenclaw chaser waiting below her, arms outstretched. The Ravenclaw chaser evaded a Bludger before hurling the Quaffle toward the left side hoop. It went through, to a chorus of loud roars from everyone in Ravenclaw colors.

Matt clapped enthusiastically, wishing for a moment that Sarah could see him so he could flash her a thumbs up.

“Yes!” Bertie cheered, waving his flag happily. “Go…. Eagles? Ravens?” He shrugged, shaking his head. “Yeah Birds!”

Matt giggled at Bertie’s antics, but was quickly distracted as the Gryffindor team rallied. They quickly maneuvered the Quaffle around Ravenclaw’s defenses and under Harry, who barely even seemed to notice.

Bertie winced as another Quaffle snuck past Sarah. “Ooh, that can’t be good.”

Matt frowned, leaning forward and watching his sister closely. She might have been better at hiding it, but she was as fiercely competitive as her siblings. He could remember when they were children, and her team had lost at Little League. She would sulk for days- sometimes even longer than Drew.

“Oh-- oh look!” Bertie exclaimed, pointing at Harry, who had just gone into a steep dive. Perhaps he’d seen the Snitch. There was no other reason he would dive like that. Ravenclaw wouldn’t win, if Gryffindor caught the Snitch.

Matt watched his brother closely, breaking his gaze for only a second to look over to Sarah. Harry had won countless games -- he’d won house cups, even. This was Sarah’s very first game at a school that often felt like a warzone to her. Though he’d told Bertie he wasn’t taking sides, he sincerely hoped that Ravenclaw won, for her sake.

Harry pulled out of the dive seconds before he would have barrelled headfirst into the grass, looking around as if he was expecting someone to have followed him down. Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, didn’t rise to the bait, neatly evading the trap he’d set, and Harry was clearly incensed, even though Matt couldn’t see his face.

“A feint?” Bertie asked, wide eyed. “He almost went straight into the ground over a fake?”

“He knows he’s good at dives and quick pull ups.” Matt winced, remembering how his eldest brother had practiced that very maneuver over and over, often plowing straight into the ground before he got the hang of it. “To him, it wasn’t even a risk.”

The bell signaling a goal rang as they were talking, and Matt looked up to see Ravenclaw’s Chasers celebrating. That goal would have tied the game, twenty to twenty. Sarah looked well enough, at her post by the hoops, and the churning in the pit of Matt’s stomach lessened. Maybe this might not be so bad.

“This doesn’t end until someone finds the Snitch, right?” Bertie asked, resting his chin on both of his palms as one of his feet tapped away at the floor. He had very obviously had enough of the game, but Matt was surprisingly invested, and for once, willing to stay through the game’s end.

“You won’t have to wait long.” Matt said, pointing up at Cho Chang, who was speeding toward Gryffindor’s hoops. Harry was right on her tail, but Cho reached out and closed her hand around something small before he could reach it.

Everyone in Ravenclaw blue rose up from their seats, a roar of happy cheers filling the stadium. Ravenclaw had won the Quidditch Cup, one hundred and seventy points to twenty. Both teams descended onto the grass, the Ravenclaw team cheerily congratulating each other.

As soon as the Ravenclaws broke apart, two Gryffindors raced toward Sarah, sandwiching her in between them. Both Ginny and Harry seemed to have been waiting for an opportune moment, and had seized it the moment they were able. Losing hadn’t seemed to affect them, so maybe Sarah playing against Harry wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“Should we wait here?” Bertie asked. “Or outside Ravenclaw Tower?”

“Dad’s office.” He corrected, grabbing Bertie’s hands and dragging him to his feet. “She likes to go over the games with him -- if we hurry, we’ll get there first!”

“Ooh, good call!” Bertie grinned. “C’mon then, Matt! Let’s run!”

Matt beamed at him before they took off, happy to have made a friend who seemed to like his family almost as much as Matt himself did.

* * *

Sarah knocked on her father’s office door, hearing all sorts of commotion behind it. Maybe her mother and Anne had come to visit, she thought eagerly, and maybe they had even caught the match. Or maybe Harry had come to start trouble. Something nasty roiled in her stomach as she stepped back, hanging her head.

Kyung dropped his hand on her shoulder, leaning forward in an attempt to make eye contact. “Why do you look like that?” He asked. “You just won the House Cup- and beat your brother for it, no less.”

“I didn’t think about it that way. If we’re being honest.” Sarah admitted, wringing her hands. She’d washed her hair, and it hung in damp, messy curls around her face. “Sometimes I forget that we aren’t all playing for the same team anymore.”

“I am sure he is proud of you, Sarah.” He told her. “We all are.”

“I appreciate the gesture.” Sarah said, smiling weakly at Kyung. “But I’d rather hear it from him.”

The door swung open to reveal James, a bright smile on his face. “There’s our little winner!” He crowed, sweeping Sarah up into a tight embrace. He let her go one he noticed Kyung, grinning sheepishly. “Oh, wow, didn’t see your friend there. Come on in, kids. Real party’s just getting started.”

Sarah nodded, then followed him in, only to be accosted by the triplets. Anne latched onto her arm, pressing herself firmly against her side as Matt hopped up and down in front of her. Drew was talking quickly in a mixture of Tamil and English, waving his hands excitedly, occasionally pounding them against her back in obvious delight.

“That was amazing!” Anne gushed, ignoring the way her hair fell into her face as she grinned at her sister. “Oh man, when you blocked that shot from Ginny I was screaming so hard I thought I’d lose my voice!”

“It was a tough one.” Sarah said. “I didn’t think I’d get more than just my fingertips on it, really. Saving it was a surprise to me too.”

“A surprise my butt!” Drew laughed. “You blocked plenty of her shots when we were practicing!”

“We?” James asked, crossing his arms.

“I mean… you… them? When Sarah and Ginny were practicing and I was… not there.” Drew chuckled nervously.

“Your children break so many rules, dear.” Lily sighed.

“He’s outside on a Quidditch pitch with friends.” James countered. “He’s your child now.”

“Why would Amma be on a quidditch pitch?” Anne wrinkled her nose. “Appa, you have friends, don’t be silly.”

“I’m your friend, Appa!” Matt said, sticking his hand in the air.

“Thank you, Madhu.” James smiled. “And now I have three whole friends!”

“Amma’s your friend.” Sarah said.

“We’re married.” James said, with a wave of his hand. “That’s different.”

“Where’s Harry?” Sarah asked, looking round the room. Now that the spotlight had been moved onto Drew, it was easy to notice Harry’s absence.

“Oh, you know how he is.” James said, with a wave of his hand. “He’s off to lick his wounds in private somewhere. Probably with Ron.”

“Can’t lick a wounded ego.” Sarah said dryly, to a chorus of giggles from Matt.

Lily swooped in, ruffling Sarah’s hair and planting a kiss on her cheek. “We’re so proud, honey! Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“It’s only backup, Amma.” Sarah sighed. “It wasn’t much.”

“You’re going to be the third Potter in the last twenty years to have your name on a Quidditch Cup, kid.” James interjected. “And you know what they say about the third time -- it’s a charm.”

“You’re not mad about me beating Hari?” Sarah asked.

“Do it again, whenever possible.” Lily insisted.

“I’ll help.” Anne snickered, poking Sarah in the side.

“I may not know much of your brother, but he probably needed to be taken down a few pegs.” Kyung smiled.

“Fine, fine.” Sarah chuckled. “You don’t have to do all this for me, you know. I barely did anything.”

“Sarah Potter, Quidditch Cup Champion.” Drew whispered, awestruck. “Oh my god. We can call you that now.”

“It’s a bit of a mouthful.” Matt hummed. “Can I keep calling her Sarah, instead?”

“I’m afraid not.” Lily said, hands on her hips. “We have to show her the proper respect, now.”

“Sarah Potter is a Quidditch Cup Champion.” James Potter said, barely holding back a laugh as his eyes filled with tears from the effort. “I can’t believe it.”

“And the youngest yet!” Lily laughed. “That makes you the best.”

“Without a doubt.” James agreed, and Sarah stood up a little straighter, as if the praise from her father was all she’d needed all along. “If you’re this good at thirteen, imagine what you’ll be at fifteen, at twenty!”

“That’s a long time away.” Sarah said, ducking her head in embarrassment. “We don’t need to think about that now.”

“Sarah, when you were four, you wanted me to help make you a spreadsheet to plan for expenses for the next three years.” Lily said to her daughter. “You don’t want to think about the future? Oh, James, she’s growing up!”

Matt threw himself at his sister, giggling wildly as he wrapped her in the tightest hug his skinny arms could manage.

“You won’t kick my ass next year, will you?” Drew asked.

“Can’t make any promises.” Sarah said with a smile. She looked truly happy, for the first time in awhile, genuinely at ease while surrounded by many of her favorite people. “You’ll just have to play and see.”

“I’m doomed.” Drew sighed theatrically.

“Perhaps if you ask nicely,” Kyung smiled at Drew, “your sister will give you a few pointers.”

* * *

“I can’t believe it.” Harry growled as he stormed down the hallway, Ron at his back. Gryffindor Tower was quiet and tense, no one wanting to say a word to their captain, and Harry was sick of it. While he’d been happy, initially, that Sarah had a win under her belt, the realization that it had come at the cost of the Cup for him had hit him like a brick wall after leaving the pitch, and it wasn’t a realization he was particularly fond of. “Sarah? Of all of them, her?”

“Mate, we’ve always known she was good.” Ron said, following after his friend at a slightly more sedate pace.

“When did she try out? Why didn’t she tell me?” Harry asked. “I thought she told me everything!”

“She’s barely talked to you all year- why would that change now?” Ron winced sympathetically.

“I thought Quidditch was our thing.” Harry said, coming to a stop. He spun on his heel to face Ron. Harry looked every inch a mess, still smelling faintly of sweat despite showering after the match. His hair had dried into a fluffy black cloud around his head, a multitude of cowlicks sending pieces sticking up in different directions. “I thought Quidditch was our thing that we could always talk about that! I’m-- I’m not good at feelings, not mine and definitely not hers, but I just thought-- I just thought that I could count on her talking to me about this one thing. I thought she’d tell me.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Ron reached out, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You know, second place isn’t so bad. And, hell, maybe Sarah didn’t tell you because she wanted to throw you off your game!”

“It’s my first year as Captain, and I just-- I wanted to bring the Cup home.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “I mean, Oliver did, and I wanted to-- God, I want to be just half as good as Oliver, that would be just fine!”

“Oliver didn’t win a cup till his last season as captain.” Ron pointed out, attempting a smile. “So, technically, that gives you another year.”

“I’ve won twice. I should know what it takes.” Harry let out a low groan, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“Yeah, as a player.” Ron said. “Not as a captain. This is your first time in a leadership position like this -- you’re being too hard on yourself.”

“I guess.” Harry shrugged. He began to walk again, stopping when he found a bench that didn’t look inherently questionable. He touched it twice to make sure it was real before sitting down hard, shaking his head. “Worst part is that I know my family’s celebrating her win downstairs and I can’t help but be a total berk about it. My little sister won her first full game, and I’m acting out like a toddler who didn’t get his way.”

Ron watched him closely, a strange expression overtaking his face. “I mean, I don’t think there’s any shame in it, mate. You did a great job-- you got us to second place, didn’t you?” He said. “Not to say that I don’t get why you’re upset. It was a big game.”

“Yeah, but Ginny’s always been on your team.” Harry argued. “You’ve never had to lose to your sister.”

“You’re right.” Ron allowed. “I’ve never had to.”

“Then what do I do?” Harry asked, wringing his hands in his lap. “How the hell do I pull myself together and go in there and congratulate her like she deserves? I just-- I can’t even be a good captain, so how the hell am I going to be a good brother when I can’t even--”

Ron suddenly grabbed his face, pulling Harry forward and slightly off-balance as he planted a quick, sloppy kiss against his mouth. He pulled back after a moment, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Oh. Uh.” Harry spluttered, looking around the hall with wide eyes. “That was. Uh. Okay.”

“Uh… Did that help any?” Ron asked, pulling his hands back and rubbing one awkwardly against the side of his neck.

“Um. Yeah, actually.” Harry nodded awkwardly. “Thanks, mate.”

“Yeah, no problem. Just… helping out my best mate.”

“That’s right.” Harry stood up, slapping Ron on the shoulder before jogging toward his father’s office. “Just helping out.”


	15. Blatant Fanservice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “More fun than talking to Slughorn.” Hermione scowled. “He’s been after me since the first party to find out how I ‘transcended my simple roots’ and ‘became a student of the great art of potion-making’. I took the class because it was required, and stayed because it looks good on a CV. And I enjoy it, of course, but that’s secondary.”
> 
> “Sometimes I really do wonder what living in your world must be like.” Harry quipped. “Enjoyment is secondary, what kind of horse sh--”
> 
> “Guys.” Ron’s voice was strained. “The party is going to be lame enough as it is-- let’s just get through it and spend the rest of the night complaining in the common room till we pass out, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big things are happening at Hogwarts, as we move into the penultimate arc of Cursed Locket. Per our plan, we have seven chapters (for a total of twenty-two) left after this one! Time really does fly. 
> 
> In other fun facts: About three years ago this month, Lai and I were floating the idea of Rewrite to each other. The official three year anniversary of us beginning work is the 24th, which, according to how the plot's going at the moment, will fall... on a very interesting chapter. 
> 
> Stay tuned for that and other things! 
> 
> -S&L

“So, boys…” Hermione said, putting down her book to steeple her fingers in front of her face. Which one of you is going to tell me where you were last night?”

“You sound like my mother.” Harry shuddered. “You’re not my mother.”

“We were in bed. Sleeping. Just like every night.” Ron said, glancing away from Hermione.

“Lies.” Hermione said, shaking her head. “I thought we were past this stage in our friendship, but apparently I overestimated you both.”

“I didn’t want to be around everybody after the loss, so I visited with my parents some and fell asleep in the library after.” Harry shrugged. Carrying off this lie was essential, and both he and Ron knew it. If Hermione didn’t buy what he said, she’d start asking questions, and when Ron was involved, questions always got answered.

“I was… in the owlery. Writing a letter to my mum and dad about how the game went. And the twins, of course, they’re always trying to keep up with Quidditch, even with the joke shop taking off.” Ron cleared his throat. “Went to bed pretty late.”

“Harry, just two weeks ago, you told me you couldn’t sleep in the library because it felt like the books were judging you.” Hermione said, with a frown. “Which they definitely are.”

“Are the books talking to you, ‘Mione?” Ron raised his eyebrows. “Cause if it’s gonna be anyone, it’ll definitely be you.”

“So, Harry did not fall asleep in the library. The twins were at the game and spent time with both Ron and Ginny separately and together, so Ron is also lying.” Hermione tapped her fingertip against her chin thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

“Well. I give up.” Ron sighed, burying his face in his hands.

“I went home?” Harry offered, though he knew it was far too little, far too late.

“Likely story.” Hermione said, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Especially considering how your mother visited the Common Room shortly before leaving, asking where you were, seeing as you’d apparently run off under suspicious circumstances earlier.”

“I hate her.” Harry muttered.

“I guess that makes me suspicious circumstances, then?” Ron looked at Harry.

“I had to help Ron with his, uh…” Harry trailed off. “His personality.”

“Rude.” Ron muttered with a scowl.

Hermione nodded slowly, seconds away from bursting into laughter. “How did you help his personality, Harry?”

“He gave me lots of pointers.” Ron said blandly. “And some hands-on demonstrations.”

“Hands on…” Hermione shook her head. “That’s it. I’m never leaving you two unsupervised again.”

“That’s… probably for the best.”

“So, I’m giving you one last chance.” Hermione said, placing her hands flat on the table. “Either you start telling me what you did last night, or I’ll start listing my theories, ranging from most uncomfortable to least. You have thirty seconds to make a decision.”

“Well, now I’m actually kind of curious about the theories.” Ron said.

“Every theory Hermione’s ever had involves citations.” Harry said. “Do you want to hear the citations?”

“Can we just swear her to secrecy and call it a day?” Ron sighed.

“Swear yourself to secrecy, Hermione.” Harry said, slamming his face down on the table. “This is going to be a long story.”

“Okay, so, I might have… Well, see, Harry was upset about the game, right? And I sort of panicked cause I didn’t know how to help.” Ron said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “So I just sort of kissed him.”

“What?” Hermione blinked in surprise.

Ron cleared his throat, tipping his head back in order to avoid eye contact, but otherwise said nothing.

“You can’t be serious?” Hermione said, looking to Harry for confirmation.

“My standards are at an all time low.” Harry mumbled.

“Hey!”

“An all time high.” Hermione corrected Harry, looking like she regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. “Our Ronald is a perfectly adequate… companion.”

“Thank you!” Ron said, before pausing. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“What’s done is done.” Hermione shrugged. “I’m glad you tell me things.”

“I mean, our beds are in a room with three other boys.” Ron pointed out. “And, frankly, if Dean and Seamus have the decency to find other places, we should probably do the same.”

“Their usual other place is the Common Room, which seems completely indecent, if you ask me.” Hermione grimaced.

“At least they’re both cute.” Harry shrugged. “Could be worse.”

“A lot worse.” Ron agreed.

“That aside.” Hermione said, overwhelmed by the amount of information she’d just received. “Is this going to affect our friendship?”

“I mean, after that showing, not sure if I’d be down to commit myself to only that for a while.” Harry said. “If you know what I mean.”

“I can’t believe this. The king of low standards is rejecting me.” Ron stuck his tongue out at Harry.

“It wasn’t like that was your first kiss.” Harry scoffed. “That’d be a huge deal. I’d never forgive myself if I’d mucked that up.”

“... Mate.” Ron turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. “That was my first kiss.”

“Oh god.” Harry’s jaw dropped. “No.”

“Yes. Don’t you remember Fred and George making fun of me for it last year?” Ron asked. “You seriously didn’t know?!”

“Kinda slipped my mind, given the nature of, uh, the situation.” Harry said. “I’m really sorry, mate. We can totally pretend it didn’t happen, if you’d like a do-over.”

“Well that’s just insulting. I’ll be taking my do-over somewhere else.” Ron said, shoving at Harry’s shoulder good-naturedly.

“What about Hermione?” Harry suggested. “She’s here. She likes you.”

“Harry Potter, you can’t just volunteer the poor girl for something like that.” Ron groaned.

“I make my own decisions, thank you very much.” Hermione said angrily.

“Notice how she didn’t say no.” Harry grinned. “I think Hermione’s just mad that I got to you first.”

He only had a second to enjoy his joke before Hermione emptied her cup of water over his head and stomped off toward the door, bookbag in hand.

“Hey, Ron?” Harry said. “That’s definitely where you should take your do-over.”

“Harry.” Ron stared at his best friend with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Did you learn nothing from my Yule Ball debacle?”

“Yes, but you’re better now. We’ve practiced what to say to her, and also, one big thing has changed.” Harry placed a soaking wet hand on Ron’s shoulder. “You’re not the one jealous of her. She’s the one jealous of you.”

“I feel like this is all happening rather quickly.” Ron said, shaking his head. “But, uh, now I feel like we fucked up yesterday?”

“I mean, it served its purpose.” Harry shrugged. “And we finally got to talk about how you feel about her, which is nice. Was a weird conversation to have then, now that I think about it, especially after what you did, but hey, it’ll be a great story once everyone involved gets over themselves.”

“That includes you?” Ron asked, handing Harry a few napkins to wipe his face dry with.

“I mostly have to change my clothes.” Harry said, reaching for more napkins after the ones Ron had given him soaked through. “If you’re in it for the long game, you act at the Slug Club dinner.”

“When’s that, again?” Ron asked, getting to his feet.

Harry grinned. “Tonight.”

* * *

The empty halls somehow made the tense silence between Harry, Ron, and Hermione even more awkward than it had been in the Common Room. Hermione was walking slightly ahead of the boys, and Ron continued to shoot Harry increasingly panicked looks. He had complimented Hermione’s green dress when she had descended from her dormitory, but his eager words were met with silence.

“So, the party.” Harry said, smiling as enthusiastically as possible. “Nice.”

“I’m surprised he’s letting you bring me along again.” Ron admitted. “He seemed pretty underwhelmed by everything I had to say last time.”

“Would be hell without you, Ron.” Harry slapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, come with us.”

“See, that makes it sound like this is about friendship, which is kinda awkward,” Ron said, “cause I’m just coming for the food.”

“Understandable.” Hermione said, with a curt nod. “That’s the only reason I’m going.”

“So, just to make sure we’re all on the same page, neither of you are here because the three of us are friends?” Harry frowned.

“What gave you the impression we’re friends?” Ron asked, feigning surprise.

“The general getting almost murdered together.” Harry said brightly. Getting murdered, unfortunately, had become quite commonplace to him over the last few years, and he’d given up on worrying about the possibility. Everyone was at risk of murder simply by the numbers, after all. “That’s what my parents say friends mean anyway.”

“Sometimes I worry about your parents.” Hermione said.

“They probably need someone to worry about them.” Ron shrugged. “It’s what their kids are for.”

“They have, what, one friend who’s alive? And the Longbottoms. Though that relationship’s been…” Harry tugged at the collar of his dress robes. “A little rocky, lately.”

“It’s been more than half a year.” Hermione remarked. “You’d think they’d have gotten over it. Both you and Neville did, and you were the ones actually dating.”

“Half a year, huh?” Harry was quite shocked. He hadn’t realized time had passed so quickly. The last time he’d gone half a year without speaking to Neville at least once, they’d been toddlers incapable of holding proper conversations. The thought made him feel slightly ill, and he resolved to talk to Neville at the earliest opportunity. Maybe, if Hermione was right about Neville having left old grievances behind, he would be ready to talk now.

“That’s a pretty long time.” Ron winced.

“Dating best friends is a horrid idea, kids.” Harry waggled his finger at both of them, as if delivering some great life lesson. “Leave that alone.”

Ron shot Harry an aggravated look over Hermione’s head. “Isn’t Neville coming to the party tonight?”

“Oh. I guess I’ll talk to him tonight, then.” Harry chuckled awkwardly. “That’ll be fun.”

“More fun than talking to Slughorn.” Hermione scowled. “He’s been after me since the first party to find out how I ‘transcended my simple roots’ and ‘became a student of the great art of potion-making’. I took the class because it was required, and stayed because it looks good on a CV. And I enjoy it, of course, but that’s secondary.”

“Sometimes I really do wonder what living in your world must be like.” Harry quipped. “Enjoyment is secondary, what kind of horse sh--”

“Guys.” Ron’s voice was strained. “The party is going to be lame enough as it is-- let’s just get through it and spend the rest of the night complaining in the common room till we pass out, okay?”

“Sounds great by me.” Harry agreed.

Hermione simply began walking toward the portrait hole, a determined look on her face.

“Looks like she’ll be fine, with or without us.” Harry scoffed. “Not like that hasn’t always been true, but really.”

“I can’t tell if you’re on my side, or if you’re trying to sabotage me.” Ron told him, following after Hermione.

“Listen, I can’t too obviously be talking you up. Then she’ll know.” Harry slung an arm around Ron’s shoulders. “We just have to stay quiet about it. Covert. Sneaky.”

“You’re utterly nutters, Harry.” Ron rolled his eyes.

“Thanks.” Harry beamed. “I try to maintain my shining reputation.”

The boys rushed down the stairs to catch up to Hermione, who was waiting for them on the next landing, tapping her foot impatiently.

“You know, the party does start soon.” Hermione said impatiently, though the amused smirk on her face belied her true feelings. “We can’t be late.”

“We’re late to everything.” Ron snorted. “Hell, I was late to my own birthday party three years running!”

“We don’t have to be!” Harry declared. “Maybe this is us turning over a new leaf!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Ron said.

“I don’t sleep.” Harry said solemnly. “An athlete never stops.”

“Your snores beg to differ.”

“Ugh, stop it.” Harry groaned. “I’m not that bad.”

“I’m pretty sure Dean put a silencing charm on his bed so he doesn’t have to hear you.” Ron grinned.

“Well, we’ve put a silencing charm on Dean’s bed for another reason.” Harry shook his head. “Honestly, do he and Seamus know anything about propriety?”

“The first thing you do when we get back to the dorms is take your pants off, Harry.” Ron sighed.

“Yes, but I wear underwear.” Harry pointed out, looking far too proud of himself. “Something which our dear friend Seamus seems to have forgotten is polite.”

“I’m glad I room with girls.” Hermione said, wincing. “At least we all have some regard for each other.”

“There is nothing but misery and body odor in our dorm, Hermione.” Ron said.

“It’s a disaster.” Harry shook his head. “We suffer endlessly.”

“Keep your suffering.” Hermione laughed. “I’d appreciate some space from Parvati and Lavender, but even desperation wouldn’t get me anywhere near your dormitory on anything more than a temporary visit.”

“That’s fair.” Ron nodded. “I feel like Parvati and Lavender can’t be anywhere near as bad as the guys.”

“You’d be surprised.” Hermione scrunched up her nose in disgust. “They’re… interesting.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Ron said, raising a hand. “I don’t need to know.”

“Now that we’re finished talking about relationships.” Hermione said brightly, proceeding aster down the stairs. “We can discuss other things. Like Ron’s horrific performance at the last Apparition lesson.”

“Do you find delight in all of my failures?” Ron groaned. “This is like first year all over again.”

“You’ll get the hang of it eventually.” Hermione called back over her shoulder. “Or you’ll retake it with Harry next year. I’m sure the both of you will have a fine time together.”

“Roasted.” Ron whispered mournfully.

“She’s just upset about what we did.” Harry shrugged. “When girls are upset, you leave them be. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Why do I feel like this is fourth year again, but we’ve switched places?” Ron eyed Harry wearily.

“What goes around comes around, Ron.” Harry patted him on the back. “If this is fourth year, you’ve already made out with the best friend you’ve got and put yourself in a conundrum with regard to your first real relationship. Just avoid fifth year and you’ll be set.”

“What, you mean avoid starting a war?” Ron asked.

“Under no condition are you allowed to start a war.” Harry said, as they joined Hermione in front of the door. The sounds of loud, lively music and conversation leaked out into the hallway, and Harry exhaled hard, adjusting his tie. “That’s what I’m here for.”

* * *

“Hermione?” Harry ducked his head into an empty classroom, a frown on his face. He and Ron had been searching the whole castle for Hermione after she’d stormed out of Slughorn’s party nearly half an hour ago. No luck in this particular room. He heaved a sigh and jogged up to the next door. “Hermione?”

“Do you think she went back to Gryffindor Tower?” Ron asked, appearing from a room across the hall.

“No, she wouldn’t have.” Harry shook his head. There were two more classrooms before the end of the hall, and if he listened closely, he could hear -- was that a sniffle? He looked back over his shoulder at Ron, who was standing in the middle of the hall, head cocked to one side. “D’you hear that?”

Ron didn’t answer, instead jogging ahead of Harry and disappearing into one of the classrooms. “Hermione?”

Harry carefully approached the remaining classroom, an uncomfortable feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. Although, logically, he knew this wasn’t how Voldemort would find him this year, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen to him that he was going to regret.

“Hermione?” He called, stepping into the room. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw her sitting in the corner of the room, back to the door. “Thank god, we’ve been looking for you, and--”

“Don’t you dare talk to me.” Hermione hissed, the shaking of her shoulders intensifying.

Harry, despite knowing better, stepped forward.

“Don’t you DARE!” She screamed, turning around to face Harry. She stood up, drawing her wand. “You knew and you still-- you still--”

“I’ve done a lot of things, Hermione.” Harry shuffled his weight between his feet uncomfortably. “You’ll have to be more specific?”

Ron appeared in the doorway, obviously having been drawn in by Hermione’s shriek. He looked equal parts relieved and concerned when his eyes landed on the two of them.

“Avis!” Hermione roared. A flock of small, yellow birds burst forth from the end of her wand, speeding towards Harry. If birds could look angry, these birds did.

Harry did the one thing he knew best -- he ran.

“I PROMISE IT WASN’T ON PURPOSE!” He called back over his shoulder, as the birds continued to chase him. “RON STARTED IT!”

Hermione remained hot on his heels, wand still in hand. “OF COURSE HE DID, THAT’S NOT THE POINT!”

“Guy?!” Ron dove to the side, leaving the doorway clear so Harry could barrel into the hall, Hermione right behind him.

“You knew!” Hermione said, through gritted teeth. “You knew how I felt, you told me--” She glanced back at Ron, an unreadable expression on her face, before glaring at Harry. “And still, you did.”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again.” Harry said, as one of the faster birds smashed headlong into his shoulder blade. It stung, for a few seconds, like someone had jabbed a needle into him. He didn’t dare turn around, for fear of catching one in the face, but the other end of the hallway was quickly approaching. “I make a lot of bad decisions, and that was one of them!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Ron shouted from behind them.

Harry slid to a halt right before the wall, curling up into a ball on the floor. The birds, who had been flying far too fast to change direction, slammed into the wall one by one, disappearing in puffs of yellow powder. Harry, breathing hard, slowly straightened out, sitting up with wide eyes.

“Hermione.” He said, in between deep breaths. “Jesus Christ.”

“You’re Hindu, mate.” Ron said, finally catching up to them. “Hermione, Harry didn’t do anything wrong.”

“See!” Harry exclaimed. “What he said! I didn’t do anything!”

“It takes two to tango!” Ron protested.

“That wasn’t a tango, that was assault!” Harry yelped. “I didn’t look like I wanted it! You just went ahead and laid one on me!”

“Wait- okay, stop.” Ron held up his hands, frown firmly in place. “Hermione, you’re mad at Harry because… I kissed him? Am I right about that or just misreading this entire bloody mess?”

“At least one of you can think through things!” Hermione said indignantly, her grip tightening around her wand.

“HEXING PEOPLE IS ILLEGAL!” Harry screamed, curling up again. “MY MOTHER SAID SO!”

“Your mum does illegal shit all the time!” Ron exclaimed. “Can we focus?!”

“Yes!” Harry said. “Let’s focus on the fact that I did nothing wrong and Ron kissed me, so I didn’t do anything to hurt Hermione! End of story! Talk it out amongst yourselves! I’m tired of playing both sides!”

“What are you talking about?” Ron demanded.

“All through the Christmas holidays, both of you.” Harry shuddered. “You were right there in the same room, yet writing me was easier than actually talking to each other. I’m sick of hearing about it! Hermione, Ron would probably die for you! Ron, Hermione thinks you’re quite charming, except when you talk with your mouth full, because that is disgusting and ungodly. Discuss.”

“... What?” Ron, despite the way his face had gone bright red, looked dumbfounded.

“I said discuss!” Harry said. “What, Hermione, suddenly nothing to say?”

“Harry.” Hermione hissed.

“You can’t just force a conversation like this.” Ron said, crossing his arms defensively.

“You are not the one to talk about forcing things on people.” Harry pointed out.

“It was going to happen eventually.” Hermione said, though she still looked murderous. “It might as well happen now.”

“Carry on trying to kill me and we might even get an audience!”

“For fuck’s sake, Harry, I will gag you.” Ron threatened.

“Please don’t.” Harry grimaced.

“Then shut up.” Ron said.

“I would if either of you would actually say anything!” Harry groaned. “Come on, Hermione. Say something smart!”

“Well?” Hermione turned to Ron, her expression softening some at the sight of him. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Isn’t me thinking for myself what got us here to begin with?” Ron winced. “Look, yesterday I just… sort of panicked, alright? It didn’t mean anything. I’m sorry if it… upset you?”

“Continue.” Hermione said, with a sharp nod.

“Uh,” Ron shot Harry a mildly panicked look, “I… won’t do it again?”

“I am officially ungagged!” Harry beamed. “Hermione, he’s sorry. In general. Even for all those things he didn’t know he did. He knows he was wrong and is sorry--”

“Wait, no, I’m still lost.” Ron shook his head. “You keep saying Harry knows how you feel! Feel about what? Me?”

“What else?” Hermione scoffed, trying her best to remain casual.

“Okay, well Harry might know, but I’m kind of in the dark.” Ron said.

“Hermione thinks you’re pretty okay. For a white guy.” Harry said. “I mean, I can’t argue. You’re doing okay for yourself.”

“... Thank you?”

“She’d like to tell you you’re wrong in a more emotional capacity than best friend.” Harry continued, despite the death glares being shot his way by Hermione. “In fact, she’d like to hold your hand while telling you you’re wrong.”

“Not exactly like that.” Hermione interrupted, before Harry could say anything else, looking rather apologetic. “I don’t exactly delight in telling you you’re wrong --”

“You do.” Harry interjected.

“I don’t--”

“Stop fighting the truth, Hermione.”

“I don’t.” Hermione said, fixing Harry with a glare. “But, if-- if someone were to ask me which one of you I would save, if it were down to one or the other... I would pick you.”

“Well at least we’re being honest here. I mean, we all know Harry would save himself.” Ron nodded sagely.

“This isn’t-- This isn’t about him.” Hermione frowned. “It’s always about him. He can stand a little break from the spotlight. No, this is about you. About me. About… about both of us.”

“You mean like…. Us, us?” Ron rubbed at the back of his neck, his face slowly turning red.

“That’s my boy.” Harry said proudly.

“Shut up.” Hermione growled.

“You know, I just realized that my mum is right about that whole communication thing.” Ron said, smiling nervously. “Cause this could have been cleared up a hell of a lot sooner.”

“Potentially.” Hermione allowed, casting a glance down at Harry. “Although he did help.”

“I’m the most useful.” Harry piped up. “The usefulerest.”

“That is not a word.” Hermione pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter.” Harry grinned. “Still the best.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Ron rolled his eyes, smiling fondly.

“So, have we straightened this out?” Harry asked. “Because I’m beginning to wonder if hiding on the floor was the smartest idea. I feel wet. And germy.”

“Well, at least now we’re raising him extra together.” Ron joked.

“What if we left him here?” Hermione suggested.

“See, this is why you’re the smart one.” Ron grinned, throwing an arm over Hermione’s shoulder and steering her away. “Bye, Harry!”

“Wait-- wait up!” Harry called after them, scrambling up to his feet. “Don’t leave me here! I thought we were friends!”

“Really,” Ron said to Hermione, “whatever gave him that impression?”


	16. Progress Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dumbledore-- Dumbledore’s set me a task.” Harry said, masterfully avoiding eye contact. With Hermione, eye contact had never meant much, outside the few times she had pushed for it. It made it much easier for Harry, who abhorred the idea of emotionally fraught conversations, to finish them off quickly. “Well, he did at the beginning of the year. You see, Slughorn’s been hired not for his potions teaching, but ‘cause he knows something. Of course, he’s a good teacher, but Dumbledore needs to know what he knows. Or what he did, really. He did something and he’s lied about it, and quite well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decisions were made, mistakes happened, and we emerge from the chaos with a plan! Next week, the repercussions. We're excited to see what you think!
> 
> -S&L

Anne was grateful for everything her parents did for her. Homeschooling her was was only one of many allowances they had made for her over the years, and they always seemed to make the right choice for her. Maybe they’d gotten enough practice, by the time she came around. After missing so many classes at Hogwarts, overwhelmed by everything going on around her, her mother had decided it would be easier for her to take the lessons corresponding to first year at her own pace, anyways.

And her own pace sometimes took certain… liberties.

Her mother never pushed her to move faster than she was comfortable -- including days where she couldn’t quite force herself out of bed, or when the lesson plans all blurred together and she found herself growing frustrated. The frustration fed the anxiety and panic that boiled within her, just below the surface, and it all became too much, far too quickly. Her parents, as usual, did not push, in light of this new information, and said the same thing they always did -- “it’ll come with time”.

That permissiveness was why it was nearly lunch by the time Anne stumbled down the stairs, too exhausted from her own nightmares to have bothered with doing her hair, or even changing out of her pajamas, hand me downs from Sarah, who had gotten them once Harry was through with them. She had taken great joy in waking up early and looking nice every day, before. But since the locket, she had barely had the energy to brush her teeth, let alone twine intricate braids and plan outfits.

Lily didn’t say anything when Anne entered the kitchen, just smiled at her daughter. “Hey, princess. There’s leftovers from last night, if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, Amma.” She took a seat at the table, brown eyes skating to the letter placed neatly in front of her chair. It had her name written on the front in Sarah’s neat handwriting, and she immediately picked it up and ripped it open. Her sister’s weekly letters had become a fixture in her life, since she left Hogwarts, and she eagerly awaited each one, though there was little word about Sarah herself in them. It was almost like Anne was there with her siblings, thanks to Sarah’s vivid descriptions. Anne longed for summer, when all her siblings would be home, but for now, this was good enough.

> Dear Anju,
> 
> I wish I could say this month has been slower than the last, but, unfortunately, life has gotten in the way. The only thing that’s let up is Hari’s constant whining, which I can assume means Ron, Hermione, or in the best case, both of them, have figured out whatever it was that has been bothering them. The less I hear from Hari about what is going wrong the better -- I enjoy spending time with him, but wish his social life weren’t so active. It would certainly help if we could talk about other things every once in awhile.
> 
> Madhu is doing well. He and Bertie have become practically inseparable, and he is growing confident in his usage of the Map. He says it is helping him feel much better and that knowing where we are when he cannot be there himself is comforting. I’m glad -- if any of us have earned peace of mind, it is him.
> 
> Adithya continues to be stubborn and downright wrong about nearly everything, and, as usual, refuses to listen to reason. Sometimes I wonder if he’s doing it simply to get a rise out of me. That wouldn’t be too out of character for either of you -- both of you are identical in the most curious ways. I don’t know how you handle him, because I can hardly be bothered to try, after the disastrous results of my first few attempts. He is managing adequately in school, and whatever help he needs, I provide. We’re only allowed one failure in the family, and Hari is doing an amazing job without any assistance.
> 
> There’s always an odd feeling about the school this late in the spring term. Hari’s mentioned it as well. It’s like we’re on the edge of something, like something is about to happen. The track record hasn’t been overwhelmingly positive, in those cases when things do happen, but I’m sick of the anticipation. If something is going to cause trouble, it might as well do so now. The Quidditch Cup is over and there are still quite a few months until exams, so this is, in my opinion, the ideal window of time for whatever horrendous event is to happen this year. Hari claims that the closer whatever this year’s problem is occurs to exams, the higher the probability of them being cancelled while the teachers sort out the mess -- I would rather have confirmation that I have learned what I’ve been studying properly.
> 
> Keep an eye on Amma and Appa for me, as always. Madhu has been busy finishing a History of Magic project due tonight, and has told me to pass along that your other weekly update on our lives will be posted by tomorrow afternoon. I’ve also been asked to apologize to you on his behalf for the delay. I told him that you would be as glad as I am that he is busy enough to delay it. I hope I am right.
> 
> Much love,  
>  Charu

“Boys are stupid.” Anne said as Lily placed a plate of food in front of her.

Steam rose from freshly warmed rice, several spoonfuls of the plantain curry from last night’s dinner piled beside it. Before Anne could reach for the ladle in the pot of sambar to her right, Lily had poured a ladle full of it into Anne’s rice, mixing it in with a spoon. Lily had never been comfortable using her hands for it, as Anne’s father always did, but the same sentiment was always there.

“Can’t argue with that one.” Her mother laughed, shaking her head. “Hari?”

“Hari.” Anne confirmed. “He needs to shape up and hang out with Charu, now that I’m not around to do it.”

“Well, your brother can be pretty dense. Write him a letter?” Lily suggested.

“I’d do it, if I was confident that he could actually read.” Anne sniffed. “I guess she has Madhu and Adi, at least. And Kyung. And Ginny? I’m glad she has Ginny, at least. It’s important to have female company.”

Lily made a noise of agreement, and Anne read the letter over a second time as she ate.

Sarah was right -- something bad always happened at the end of the school year, and it always happened to Harry. She could remember when she was younger and Harry had just started at Hogwarts -- her parents had been frantic near the end of spring term every year, but she could never figure out why. She just remembered being scared, huddling with Matt, Drew, and Sarah as though they could fend off whatever forces were besieging their family by inhabiting each other’s space as aggressively as possible.

Then she got older, and that formless fear turned into concrete events that James and Lily felt the need to explain to their younger children. Giant snakes controlled by the man who had almost left Anne fatherless, magical stones that granted eternal life to their creator, and Voldemort’s return, which had almost come at the cost of Harry’s life. Last year had been the worst, hearing about what had happened to Uncle Sirius.

Anne felt her chest tighten at the thought of anything like that happening again. She could only hope that her own disaster was enough to keep anything terrible from happening.

Knowing Harry’s luck, that hope was very misplaced.

* * *

Dumbledore was pacing, but not in a way easily identifiable as pacing.

His hands weren’t clasped behind his back, his brow wasn’t furrowed, and his trek wasn’t simply a straight line back and forth. He looked quite calm, all things considered, and at first glance it simply looked as though he was organizing a few different shelves in his office. Only upon closer investigation was it obvious that the stern set of his face and the tension in his shoulders belied a larger problem.

“As I’m sure you are aware, my boy, very little progress has been made, and we’re running out of time.” He said, glancing over his glasses at Harry, who shrank down in his seat. “I’m beginning to think we may have to change our strategy.”

“To what?” Harry asked curiously. He had honestly been trying to get close to Slughorn, but between the Quidditch captaincy, keeping up with schoolwork, and his numerous, sometimes dubiously effective attempts at being present and active in his siblings’ lives, he had been swamped. There was precious little time to speak to Slughorn at all, and every time Harry thought he was getting close enough to ask the question Dumbledore wanted answers to so desperately, he found a stone wall in his path. “I’ve been trying to reach him during the parties, and I’ve tried to go visit him about class things and lead into an actual conversation, but he’s hard to read.” He shook his head. “My mum wasn’t kidding when she said he was tough to pin down.”

Lily Evans had also had several other choice things to say about Horace Slughorn, none of which Harry thought he should repeat in front of Slughorn’s employer. Harry’s methods of getting his way had been crude and downright petty in the past, owing largely to the fact that he was often under unreasonable amounts of stress and usually just competing with his siblings over something trivial instead of potentially turning the tide of a war, but he was going to handle this like an adult, which meant that he was going to bottle up all of his feelings and write a very intense letter to his mother the second this meeting ended.

“Your mother is rarely wrong, I find.” Dumbledore hummed, fingers skimming over the spines of several large tomes. “I was hoping the allure of adding you to his… collection, might incline him towards sharing information with you. Whatever he knows must be incredibly important, for him to have buried it so deeply…”

“I mean, he could’ve even told Voldemort what Horcruxes are.” Harry said, shifting uncomfortably. “He probably did, knowing Slughorn. Would’ve said anything, if someone said it was for research. He seems like the type.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Dumbledore sighed. “I once knew him to explain the intricacies of the black market to a particularly curious student. I never did look into their intentions…”

“He’s awfully fond of his reputation.” Harry said. “He wouldn’t want us dragging it through the mud, and especially if word got out…”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Ah, the art of blackmail. Certainly a favorite strategy of mine, when I was your age.”

“I almost want to know why, but I feel like you wouldn’t tell me.” Harry said.

“I’m afraid even I have secrets to keep, Harry.” Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “I’m inclined to agree with you -- knowing what we do of Professor Slughorn, I daresay he would be incredibly compliant, with a few well-placed words.”

“Everybody’s got secrets.” Harry agreed, though he wondered what might be so bad that Dumbledore was so willing to hide it when so many of his shadier dealings were already well known. Or at least it seemed that way, judging by the conversations Harry’s parents had about him. “But I’ve already tried talking to him. It didn’t work.”

“Harry, I can only reiterate to you how important this information is.” Dumbledore said gravely, finally pacing back to his desk. “It could mean the difference between winning and losing this war. In this situation, I must say the end justifies whatever means you find necessary in getting it.”

“But how am I supposed to get it?” Harry asked. “I’ve tried everything.”

“Certainly not everything, my dear boy.” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “I seem to recall you mentioning Miss Granger having acquired some Felix Felicis?”

“I did, but that’s hers.” Harry frowned. “I can’t take it. Can’t we brew some of our own?”

“It takes six months to brew.” Dumbledore reminded him, taking a seat. Harry felt uncomfortable with Dumbledore’s eyes on him -- when younger, he had thought of Dumbledore’s eyes as kind. Now, they felt like they were searching through him for something, as if some sort of secret lay within Harry himself. The nervousness within him had only increased, with every passing meeting, forced to sit across from Dumbledore while he watched Harry so intently. Surely he did not think Harry could win the war alone? “While your loyalty has always been admirable, Harry, I’m afraid some things are more important.”

“What if she was planning to use it?” Harry asked. “Or what if she’s used it already? What do I do then?”

“Then we’ll think of another plan- but right now, I would say this is the best we have.”

“I’ll talk to her.” Harry said, after a moment’s thought. “But I’m not guaranteeing anything. If she says she doesn’t want to give it over, I’m not going to make her.”

“I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, Harry, and I would never try.” Dumbledore said, folding his hands on the desk in front of him.

“I told you at the beginning that I didn’t want to do this, after the memory of Riddle in the orphanage.” Harry pointed out quietly. He hadn’t dwelled on the exchange much at the time, but now, remembering Dumbledore’s words, he felt furious. “And you told me it’d help my family be safer, if I helped you find all you could. That was forcing. That was definitely trying, and definitely forcing.”

“That was simply providing motivation, my boy.” Dumbledore said. “You can back out at any time.”

“And if I backed out now?” Harry asked, to test the waters.

“That would be your decision.” Dumbledore said, maintaining eye contact. “Though I couldn’t guarantee anything that should happen as a result.”

“I don’t feel like I should.” Harry said quickly, well aware that he’d stepped into dangerous territory. Though using Harry’s family as a bargaining chip had been a dirty move, Dumbledore was right -- no matter how much his parents claimed they could handle it alone, his family was at risk. Harry had to do his part in protecting them. “I’ll-- I’ll talk to Slughorn. And Hermione. How should I contact you when I’ve got answers?”

“Send a letter, once you think the time is right.” Dumbledore said.

Harry nodded. Somehow, the time never really did seem to be right for him.

* * *

“I’m glad I was able to find you.” Harry said, sliding into the seat opposite from Hermione. She didn’t even look up from the book she was reading, far too used to his untimely interruptions of her studies. “Listen, I have a favor to ask. And this is completely out of line, so please feel free to say no if you don’t want to. Emphatically, if you want.”

“We’re in a library, Harry.” Hermione said, as her eyes scanned a fresh line of text. The smile tugging at the corner of her lips gave her amusement away. “Not too emphatically.”

“Right.” Harry nodded, with a grimace. He cast a glance around the library. Everyone seemed suitably immersed in their work, save for a few first years who were goofing off. Madam Pince, the librarian, was watching them with a murderous expression on her face, and Harry took a second to reminisce fondly on the times it had been levelled at him. Now, of course, he’d matured too much to cause a scene in the library. He was more than old enough to wait until he was outside, a fact that had greatly impressed Sarah, who was almost willing to be seen with him in public now. “So, remember how, at the beginning of the year, you got that Felix Felicis off Slughorn? Well--”

“Harry.” Hermione groaned, shutting her book. All the traces of amusement on her face had disappeared, as if wiped away, leaving a grim expression in their place. She knew what he was up to, and she didn’t like it. “Please tell me you haven’t done anything illegal.”

Harry tugged at his shirt collar nervously, thinking of what he and Dumbledore had agreed upon. “Not yet?”

“What is it?” Hermione sounded exhausted as she set the book aside, lacing her fingers together. She looked the part of a mother at a parent-teacher conference far more so than a friend. Harry winced. She’d be a force of nature in those, much like his own mother -- any kids Hermione might have would never get the chance to even think of misbehaving as much as Harry had.

“Dumbledore-- Dumbledore’s set me a task.” Harry said, masterfully avoiding eye contact. With Hermione, eye contact had never meant much, outside the few times she had pushed for it. It made it much easier for Harry, who abhorred the idea of emotionally fraught conversations, to finish them off quickly. “Well, he did at the beginning of the year. You see, Slughorn’s been hired not for his potions teaching, but ‘cause he knows something. Of course, he’s a good teacher, but Dumbledore needs to know what he knows. Or what he did, really. He did something and he’s lied about it, and quite well.”

“And he wants you to get the truth out of him.” Hermione said, obviously unamused.

“He can’t very well do it himself.” Harry said. For one, Dumbledore employed Slughorn, and blackmailing your employees was almost certainly against the law. “There’s all sorts of legal loopholes.”

“So he picked an underage student.” Hermione deadpanned. “Well, that certainly solves the legal troubles.”

“I know, I know.” Harry slapped a hand over his eyes. “It’s a terrible situation all around, but I need it to work. It-- Whatever Slughorn knows, it’s the key to predicting his next move.”

“Whose?”

“Who else’s?” Harry sighed. “There’s only one person worth worrying about these days.”

“And you need it to succeed.” Hermione nodded. “We all need it.”

“Yes.” Harry said. “You have to understand, it’s not something I would ask of you if it weren’t important.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Hermione said. “That’s one good thing about you. If you were going to do something truly stupid, you’d take full responsibility.”

She picked her book bag up off the floor, rummaging around in the pockets before pulling out a small, crystalline vial, still sealed with wax. The potion that Harry had last seen in September still swirled in it when Hermione tilted the vial so that the molten gold liquid within it shimmered in the sunlight.

“Use it well.” She said, pushing the vial across the table.

“I promise.” Harry snatched it up with eager hands, tucking it away in the pocket of his hoodie before anyone could spot what he was doing. “Thanks, Hermione. You always bail me out.”

“Who else would?” She joked, before reopening her book.


	17. Our Friend Felix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slughorn eyed Harry suspiciously, seeming to mull his words over. “You realize, Mr. Potter, that I have a reputation to uphold. A rather good one, if I do say so myself!” He said, glancing around as though someone might have overheard their whispered conversation. “Such matters… They shouldn’t be spoken of lightly.”
> 
> “You couldn’t save that student from himself, but you can save so many others, Professor.” Harry said earnestly. “There’s a war coming and-- and it’s going to be just like my parents say it was last time. Kids are going to get hurt, because war gets dirty. I want the same thing you do. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I just want this to be over so we can all just… live our lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the Slughorn arc finally comes to an end, just in time for the next arc to begin! Tune in next week for some cute family moments, the worst birthday party ever, and some well needed mother-daughter bonding.
> 
> -S&L

“Well, do you feel any different?” Ron asked curiously, face just inches away from Harry’s. He studied Harry’s expression intently, as if expecting some physical change to come over his best friend.

Harry didn’t feel any different -- perhaps lighter, but not in a way he could fully describe. He playfully knocked his forehead into Ron’s, sending Ron stumbling back. “I’m alright, I guess.” He said with a shrug. “Nothing too strange.” His stomach felt odd, and he grimaced, swallowing hard. “Definitely feels like I ate something off a murtlap’s back, that’s for sure.”

“Hopefully it isn’t too much trouble.” Hermione, who looked quite worried now, said. “You’ve only got a short window of time, so I suggest you hurry. There’ll be time for talking later.” She patted him on the back stiffly. “Well, go on.”

Harry nodded. The potion was almost certainly taking effect now-- everything seemed a little more possible, like the world had been brought into sharper focus.

“I think I’ll get going.” He said, with a slow nod. “Yeah. Felix knows what he’s doing.”

“Well, I’m worried, even if you aren’t.” Ron said, crossing his arms.

“Worry later.” Harry said, with a wave of his hand. “I’ll be fine.”

He crossed the room quickly, in his usual long strides, and climbed out of the portrait hole with a cheerful wave goodbye to the Fat Lady. He knew where he needed to be, for some reason, the moment he thought of Slughorn -- the greenhouses. He hadn’t been to the greenhouses in a while, because Neville often spent his time there. Maybe he should stop in to speak to Neville now. It had been on his mind from the moment Hermione had handed him the bottle, like this one selfish motive might be worth a short detour from the plan. But no, Slughorn’s memory came first. If there was any time of the three hours left afterward, then he would make his move with Neville.

This could change everything, he reminded himself, and continued on down the stairs until he reached the entrance hall, casting a furtive glance around before proceeding out the double doors, which opened readily at his touch. It was as if the world had opened itself up to him, had arranged every single coincidence to work in his favor. It was exhilarating.

He proceeded toward the greenhouses, keeping a careful eye out for anyone who might set the whole plan to ruin, and somehow ran right into Slughorn, who had a pair of silver scissors in his hand. He quickly pulled the sleeve of his cloak down over his hand, trying to conceal them, and Harry, to his credit, tried his best to pretend he hadn’t seen them. This was Sprout’s greenhouse, and she certainly didn’t take kindly to being stolen from.

“Harry! I hadn’t expected to see anyone-- ah, I was just taking a walk, you see.” He flashed Harry a nervous smile.

“It’s alright.” Harry said, with a roguish wink. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Ah, you do so remind me of your father. Never quite as brilliant as your mother, in most regards, but a charming boy all the same. You know, he frequently changed the potions I had assigned-- had something against using animal bits, I suppose.” He hummed, slipping his scissors into one of the deep pockets of his robe.

Harry shook his head as he chuckled. That sounded awfully like his father. James Potter had accrued a long list of lifelong enemies, over his nearly thirty-seven years, and following instructions sat right at the top.

“Now your mother-- there was a force to be reckoned with!” Slughorn let out a loud guffaw. “Most days, I felt she ought to have been teaching the class.”

“Mum’s pretty great.” Harry agreed. “She had to put off returning to Saint Mungo’s because of the business with Anne, but the mail order business is thriving, as always.”

“Right, right, dreadful news about your sister.” Slughorn said, nodding somberly. “I do so hope she’s recovering well. She would have made a fine addition to the Slytherin house, had she lasted as a student.”

Harry schooled his features into something resembling neutrality, nodding along. It bothered him, when people spoke about what happened to his sister, as if they knew how deeply it had hurt her, how deeply it had hurt his family. They were all still recovering, in ways large and small, months removed from Sarah turning the necklace in, Anne most of all. But getting mad at Slughorn, let alone mouthing off, wouldn’t earn him the opening he truly needed. He took a deep breath to steel himself, and faked a smile.

“She’s doing much better at home. Mum and Dad have divided things just fine, with her studies, so she’s caught up to her class and then some.” Harry said. “I expect she’ll be far ahead, once Sarah gets home. She won’t stand for mediocrity. Neither of the girls will.” He said the last words with pride. His sisters had always been fearsome, but awe inspiring in their own ways. He didn’t pretend to understand either of them, but he respected them, in the way that you respect anyone that could murder you with very little prior planning but chose not to every day of their lives.

“Of course! I would expect nothing less from Lily Evan’s daughters.” He chuckled.

“And what do you expect from her son?” Harry asked suddenly, before backtracking like his life depended on it. “Just out of curiosity, of course. I’m not implying anything, I would never.”

“Oh, I expect quite a bit from you, Mr. Potter.” Slughorn said cheerfully, reaching out to pat Harry on the shoulder. “I’ve come to admire your skills quite a bit, my boy. I expect to have your photo up on my shelf one day.”

“And the people on the shelf, do they ever get to hear about you?” Harry asked, the picture of innocence. “I mean, we’ve all heard about Horace Slughorn, the potioneer, but what about Horace Slughorn, the ordinary bloke?”

“I’m afraid there’s not much to talk about, in that regard.” Slughorn shrugged.

“Everyone’s got something interesting in their past.” Harry said. “It’s just that we don’t think what’s happened to us is awfully interesting, because it happened to us.”

“That’s awfully profound, my boy.”

“You agree, right?” Harry asked eagerly. It seemed like a point worth seizing upon, or at least Felix seemed to think so. It seemed awfully right to him, referring to the potion like a person all its own-- it certainly felt like a little voice was whispering in his head, marking out the right path to take. “That there’s something in everyone’s past that’s interesting?”

“Of course, of course. The past is the key to our future, as I always say.” Slughorn nodded.

“Can I ask a question, then?”

“Well, I don’t see why not.”

“I’ve heard people saying something, that you’ll answer any question about a student’s research to help them along.” Harry began carefully, wracking his mind for the proper phrasing. The words seemed to appear one at a time in his head, as if they were being spoonfed to him. Another reason to thank Felix. “Making sure we all reach our academic potential and all.”

“Of course!” Slughorn put his hands on his hips, puffing up his chest. “I pride myself on helping my students become the best they can be. You can ask anyone who’s picture is on my shelf- they’d never have gotten where they are without Horace Slughorn helping to guide them on the path to success.”

“You’re one person whose sorting I can understand.” Harry grinned. “Makes sense, Slytherin. Must’ve been straightforward.”

“Yes, quite.” He nodded. “The hat barely touched my head before I was being sent off to Slytherin.”

“And if I had a question, for research, would you answer it?” Harry asked. “Just a purely hypothetical question, of course. No intent or action behind it. I promise. I’ve just…. I’ve come across something curious, while reading in the library.” He tried to echo Tom’s words as closely as possible, the ones he’d heard while watching and rewatching the corrupted copy of Slughorn’s memory. “What is-- what is--” He looked around them to make sure no one was listening in. “Professor, what’s a Horcrux?”

“What?!” Slughorn reeled back, shock evident in his face. “Harry, that is very dark magic. You mustn’t ask about such things! Don’t even consider them!”

“You more than all people know why I’m asking.” Slughorn’s expression darkened further at Harry’s words. “Not because-- Not because I want to do anything like that. I could never. I just-- when you’re making potions, when you’re trying to find the antidote to something, you have to know what you’re trying to fight, don’t you? You have to identify the poison to find the antidote, and I’m just trying to identify the poison, sir.” Harry finished lamely, hoping the metaphor had taken root. “I just want to find an end to this so my parents can be happy again.” He didn’t realize that was all he wanted until he spoke the words aloud, but now that he had acknowledged it, it filled his chest with fire. “I want to make a world where Anne doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. And you can help, Professor. You can help.”

Slughorn eyed Harry suspiciously, seeming to mull his words over. “You realize, Mr. Potter, that I have a reputation to uphold. A rather good one, if I do say so myself!” He said, glancing around as though someone might have overheard their whispered conversation. “Such matters… They shouldn’t be spoken of lightly.”

“You couldn’t save that student from himself, but you can save so many others, Professor.” Harry said earnestly. “There’s a war coming and-- and it’s going to be just like my parents say it was last time. Kids are going to get hurt, because war gets dirty. I want the same thing you do. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I just want this to be over so we can all just… live our lives.”

Slughorn looked at him for a long moment, seemingly much older than he had been at the beginning of their conversation. He sighed, eventually, and produced a vial from within his cloak. “I don’t want you to think badly of me, my boy… I didn’t know what I was doing-- I didn’t realize what he would become-- what he was capable of…” He stared down at the empty vial. “I should have known.” He produced his wand from his sleeve, pressing it against his temple and drawing forth a wisp of light. He safely stored the memory in the small bottle. “Consider this my apology -- for not protecting your sister the way a head of house should.”

“My mother would be proud of you.” Harry said, as Slughorn passed the vial into his waiting hands. “Anne as well.”

“There’s nothing to be proud of in a memory such as that, Harry.” Slughorn sighed heavily.

“Maybe so.” Harry allowed, tightening his grip on the vial. “But there’s something in you to be proud of now. You did what was right instead of what was easy.”

“You really are your mother’s son.”

* * *

Harry jogged down the hallway to his father’s office door before knocking on it thrice. He heard the sound of soft laughter inside the room, so his father must be in the office, but someone was with him. Should he come back later? What if it was a student? Or another professor? Harry couldn’t very well reveal this information to his father in front of someone else.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor rang out, and then footsteps approached the door. It was too late to turn back now. The door swung open to reveal James Potter, clothes slightly rumpled and glasses perched crookedly on his long nose. He tugged at the hem of his sweater vest, tugging it down over his old, frayed belt. He looked as if he’d been rolling around on the ground, which didn’t suit the image of a professor one bit.

“Hey Hari.” He said, looking over Harry’s shoulder to check the hallway for people. He relaxed significantly when he found it empty, and held the door open a little wider so Harry could enter. “Come on in. Just me and Madhu here.”

Matt’s eyes peeked over the edge of James’ desk, and then he was unfolding himself like a piece of origami and stepping out from underneath. He’d grown taller again, his shirt sleeves not quite reaching his wrists at the proper place.

“Hey there.” Harry said, waving to Matt. Matt beamed, waving back. “You doing alright, little guy?”

“I’m doing great!” He said happily. “I’ve got more free time, now, and when Bertie isn’t studying, we’ve been exploring some of the far-off bits of the castle. I’ve met some very nice paintings that haven’t had a decent bit of conversation in a while. And I’ve been helping Neville out a bit down at the gardens-- it’s a bit harder than taking care of Spike, and… I’m not very fond of the dirt, but it’s kind of satisfying, you know?”

“That’s quite a bit.” Harry said. He, like his siblings, had been amazed by the amount of change they had seen in Matt over the school year. Who knew that one good friend could make such a monumental difference? Matt had stepped entirely out of Anne and Drew’s shadows, which everyone had been hoping for him to do for years, and found his own social niche to inhabit. “You’re in high demand now, aren’t you?”

“You bet!” He said, ducking his head and grinning shyly.

“Madhu, kannu kutti, head off to bed. You have a big day tomorrow, right?” James said softly, eyeing Harry’s stiffly held shoulders with concern. “C’mere, give your Appa a hug and then go on back to your room.”

Matt threw his arms around James without hesitation, then turned and hugged Harry as well. “Goodnight, Appa. Goodnight, Hari Anna.”

“Have good dreams tonight, okay?” James said, ruffling Matt’s hair. “Be good.”

“I’m always good.” Matt assured his father.

“Good boy.” James smiled fondly. “Go on, then. Looks like your Anna has something he wants to say to me. Teenage problems, right?”

“Dunno-- I don’t have those.” Matt shrugged sheepishly.

“God willing, you never will.” James laughed. “See you tomorrow? Same time?”

“Mmhm.” Matt smiled, waving once more before drifting out of the classroom.

“Shall we?” James motioned to the desk. “I imagine you’ve got quite something to talk about, if you’re being that nervous. Even Madhu was picking up on it, by the end. Sit.”

Harry made his way over to the chair his father had indicated and sat down, a scowl on his face. What he’d seen in Slughorn’s real memory was abhorrent. He’d known Voldemort was horrible, had grown up listening in on whispered stories of atrocities beyond imagination just as every child in his generation had. He’d known that even without proof -- to murder people on the basis of blood, people who had done nothing to you but disagree with your belief that they were subhuman, you had to be despicable. But this opened the door to a new, terrifying reality. This meant that it wasn’t just one body that needed to be killed.

With his father, the best option was to be straightforward. It would hit him hard either way, the heavy knowledge that Harry now carried squarely on his shoulders. Even Dumbledore had appeared shaken at the revelations the memory had contained, and Dumbledore was undeniably a great wizard, known for his talents on the battlefield. And while James Potter was equally notorious for his dueling prowess, there was no denying he was made of softer stuff than Dumbledore.

“Appa.” Harry choked out, eyes trained on his hands, which were clasped in his lap. James stood up abruptly, ready to comfort his son. His vision swam. He was about to destroy his father, shake him down to the foundations of himself, and even now, his father thought of Harry’s comfort first. “Voldemort made Horcruxes. At least one of them, probably closer to seven.”

“Seven?”James’ voice shook, and Harry looked up to see his father shaking, keeping himself upright by gripping the side of the desk so hard his bony knuckles looked as if they might rip straight through the skin of his hands. Harry’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. “Seven?”

“Seven.” Harry repeated, swallowing hard as he squeezed his eyes shut, tears coursing down his face. What this meant for him, what this meant for his family… he didn’t even want to consider it.

To kill once, with the intention to split your soul, was disgusting. To do it many times, with the incredibly selfish end goal of functional immortality, was a mark of an irredeemable soul. Harry had been raised to see the good in everyone, but there was no good to see in someone who would do something this vile.

“And the locket?”James asked brokenly.

Harry remained silent, knowing that would be enough of an answer.

“The diary, your second year?”

Harry nodded.

James exhaled sharply, shocked.

“Seven times.” He said, voice lowering to a whisper, before collapsing into his chair. He shakily raised a hand to his face, covering his eyes. “How do you-- How do you find it within yourself to--”

“He did.” Harry said, sitting up a little straighter. “He did, and we’ve got to go forward with that.”

“God.” James shook his head. “I wish I’d killed him. I wish I’d obliterated him. That kind of garbage gets to live when Sirius doesn’t-- when Sirius didn’t get to--” He exhaled hard, gritting his teeth. “Unbelievable.”

“At least this solves one thing.” Harry said suddenly. If he could do anything to help his father, he would, and maybe telling a joke might lighten the mood. “Amma can’t get mad at you for not doing him in anymore. Because you couldn’t.”

James Potter’s resultant smile was weak and forced, and didn’t reach his watery eyes.

“It seems so.” He said, in the most defeated tone of voice Harry had ever heard. “It seems so.”

* * *

Lily lay in bed, a book in her hands. She had been rereading the same paragraph for almost half an hour now, but as soon as she’d move to turn the page, she would realize she couldn’t remember a word of what she’d read. Finally, she tossed it onto the bedside table with a frustrated huff.

She turned, setting her bare feet against the cold floor of her bedroom and standing up. Nothing felt safe anymore. She of all people knew that even tucked away in her own home, they were still vulnerable.

So when she heard footsteps creaking up the stairs, Lily immediately flew to the door, wand in hand. For a moment, she was back in Godric’s Hollow, desperately barricading the door to a nursery, eyes frantically searching for the portkey you’d hidden away on one of Harry’s shelves. It almost felt wrong, not to have a child to protect. Harry was nearly an adult now, off fighting a war that was never his to win, but to Lily he was still a child hiding from death in the tight hold of her arms.

The enemy trudging up the stairs, ready to attack, turned out not to be an enemy after all, but her husband, red eyed and exhausted. It was as if he’d been torn straight out of her memories and placed before her, the same man who had shown up on Remus’ doorstep nearly sixteen years ago, drained and desperate, gripping the banister of the stairway as tightly as he could.

“Lily.” He whispered, barely holding eye contact. “Lily, love, put the wand down please. It’s just me. Just your James.”

Lily dropped her arm, wand dangling by her side. She stepped forward, hesitant hands pulling James into an embrace. “What’s wrong, dear?” She breathed.

“It’s-- It’s--” James took a deep, shuddering breath. “You’ll want to sit down. Let’s-- let’s go inside.”

She guided him back into the bedroom, letting the door click shut behind them. The mattress dipped beneath her weight as she took a seat, tugging James along with her. “Alright, we’re inside and sitting down.” She said.

“Voldemort’s been…” James began, taking Lily’s hand in his. “Voldemort’s been making Horcruxes. It’s when you tear your soul up by killing and hide bits of it places, so you can’t really be killed.” He gripped her hand tighter, as if it physically pained him to speak. “It’s nasty magic. Darker than the Unforgivables. And he’s been-- he’s been using it, for years now. It’s why-- it’s why he never died, why he never went away.”

Lily’s grip tightened around James’ hand, nearly crushing him. Her face remained blank, gaze distant as she stared at the opposite wall. The peace she had held so dear, the happiness she had created. Their home, their beautiful children, their careers… It had felt like a victory, to be able to build a life between the two of them, after escaping from the shadow of war.

That peace, which they'd marveled over, which they'd thanked every power in the world for being trusted with, had been nothing but a lie.

“How many horcruxes?” She finally croaked. “How many have been found?”

“They’ve found two, that I know of. It’s-- It’s said he wanted to make seven, but the only way to find out if he did is to do in as many as we can and then try to get him directly.” James said. He scooted closer to Lily nervously, like he had done often when they were teenagers, worried by the prospect of sharing her space or appearing too forward. Now, after years of breathing each other’s air, Lily found it easy to lean her head against his shoulder. “But… yeah, they’ve found two so far.”

“What were they?” She whispered.

“The first was... The first was the diary. From Hari’s second year.” James said slowly, before worrying his lower lip, which was cracked and bloody, between his teeth.

She felt what was left of her heart break into even smaller pieces, pieces that ached for her boy. He had been so scared-- appearing in Dumbledore’s office, sword in hand, covered in blood. He’d held his chin high, but she had raised him. Lily knew the way fear looked when it was blooming behind her own eyes. People had always told her that Harry had her eyes.

 

“The second one?” She asked.

“The second… The second Horcrux was the locket.” James said, eyes welling up with tears. “We-- we let him into our house, Lily. We let him into our house, let him have our daughter, our sweet daughter--”

She had hoped, of course, that the answer would be different. But some part of her had always known. Whatever it was that had taken her strong, stubborn daughter and twisted her up and spat her out couldn’t have been something simple.

“We just… handed our children to him, Lily.” James whispered, pulling away from her to cast a furtive glance around the room. “Fuck, it could be happening even now, who knows?”

Lily reached out, laying a gentle hand against James’ cheek. “It’s alright, James.” She said. “There’s nothing else our children have that could possibly be a horcrux.”

“I just-- I don’t understand. I don’t understand.” James shook his head. “I don’t understand why garbage like that lives and Sirius has to die. I don’t understand. I don’t.”

“I don’t know.” She whispered, stroking her thumb along the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “Sirius.... He was my friend, too. He deserved so much better…”

“I know, I know.” James said, with a sigh. “I just-- Why does everything go wrong for us? Why can’t we just have one good year? It’s not-- It’s not much to ask, is it?”

“Someday, when this is all over, we’ll have more good years than we know what to do with.” She said, pressing her lips against his for a moment. “Everything comes to an end, and so will this. We’ll keep them safe, just like we did with Hari.”

“Mm.” James chuckled, a wet, sad sound forcing itself out of his throat. “And the kids will all be fine, for once. We’ll finally be able to keep them safe, for once.”

“For once…” Lily glanced down. Before she could continue, a gentle knock at the door interrupted her. They both looked up to find Anne pushed the door open and peeking inside. She had never been much of a light sleeper, growing up, but since the locket she was much easier to rouse.

“Sorry, I just… is everything alright?” She asked hesitantly.

“Anjali, Anju, come here.” James said, disentangling himself from Lily to reach out to Anne. “I’m sorry we woke you.”

She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him. “Appa?”

“My sweet girl.” James said, planting a kiss on the top of Anne’s head. “I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t have stopped it, Appa.” She mumbled, sitting down beside him. “It’s over now, right? That’s what matters.”

“I guess so.” James shook his head. “God, I’ve never been more thankful for you.”

“I’m a great kid.” She said, voice lacking it’s usual teasing tone. “You should be thankful more often.”

Lily reached across James to tuck some of Anne’s hair behind her ear. “Every moment of every day.” Lily assured her.

“... Can I stay with you tonight?” She asked hesitantly. “It… might help, if all three of us are here. Together.”

“No better thing now than to be together, I guess.” James wiped his eyes off on the arm of his shirt. “At least we’ve got that over him.”

“He’ll never be able to tear us apart.” Lily said, pulling the two of them closer. “No matter what happens, we’re a family.”


	18. Thirty-Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Lily sat beside James, offering him one of the mugs, she noticed he staring intently at his two way mirror.
> 
> “You’ve been brooding all night.” Lily told him. “Weird way to spend your birthday.”
> 
> “We’re old, Lily.” James shook his head. “No use partying on birthdays anymore. We’re better served by intense reflection.” He held up the mirror. “Which I am doing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intense reflection is officially the best pun we've made in Rewrite so far. It's... there are so many levels. There's the mirror, and the way he says it, and how old people get weird about birthdays, and-- never mind, we're getting off topic.
> 
> Come back next week, as the end of the book truly starts to kick in, and we start hurtling headfirst toward the As Of Yet Unnamed Book Seven!
> 
> -S&L

“Congratulations.” Sarah said, sitting on the edge of her father’s desk. She swung her legs back and forth a few times. “You’re old now, Appa. How does it feel?”

“He was already old.” Harry pointed out, from where he’d successfully pinned Drew on the floor. Harry was sitting on his little brother’s back, grinning gleefully, as Drew struggled to free himself. “He’s just real old now.”

“I’m not old.” James grumbled with a scowl. “I’m only…” He checked his watch, looking rather confused when he found nothing that would help him, looking up to the ceiling as he mouthed a few numbers. “I’m thirty-seven. That’s not old.”

“Why’d you check your watch?” Drew asked, unsuccessfully attempting to shove Harry off. “Is your age on there?”

“No, Adi, ages aren’t on watches.” Sarah said, hopping down from the desk. “Appa just can’t do math.”

“I knooooow.” Drew whined. “I was trying to be funny!”

“You aren’t old, Appa.” Matt assured James, patting his arm. “You’re very handsome.”

Sarah kicked Harry hard in the ribs, and he tumbled to the side, finally freeing Drew from beneath him. Sarah helped Drew out while Harry groaned in pain on the floor, dusting off his shirt in what one could almost interpret as a maternal fashion until one remembered who was doing the dusting.

“Now that that’s settled.” Sarah said, ignoring Harry’s yelps of pain, which she, and everyone else, had decided were more performative than anything else. “When are we leaving?”

Matt grabbed onto Harry’s arm, leaning back on his heels in order to pull him to his feet. As soon as Harry stood, he overbalanced and went tumbling to the floor with an undignified squawk.

“Poor Madhu.” Sarah shook her head. “Look what you put him through.”

“Hey!” Harry protested. “He decided to help. He didn’t have to!”

“How could you, Hari?” Madhu said, jutting out his bottom lip.

“Four against one! That’s not fair!” Harry whined, looking to his father, who was finishing up some last minute grading, for defense.

“Four against one is unfair, but sometimes necessary.” James said, without looking up from his work. “Especially if that one started it.”

“I didn’t start anything.” Harry grumbled.

“Not true.” Sarah piped up. “He was the one who tackled Adithya and--”

“I know what he did.” James said, placing another exam atop the pile of graded ones. “And he is in the wrong, Charu, but there’s no need for you to yell at him. I’ll do that, and your mother will do that as well. Two is enough. Leave him for now.”

“Good.” Sarah said, though she was obviously miffed at having been told off.

“You’re in trouble too.” Harry whispered, in a sing song voice.

Drew let out a roar of vengeance, running and leaping at his brother. “For Charu!” He shouted through his own laughter, causing Matt to giggle.

“Kids, please.” James said, setting his papers aside. “That’s about as much as I’m going to get done, with you all horsing around. Come on. Let’s get moving. Everybody got their things?”

Drew held up his backpack, the broken zipper half-open. “All ready!” He said.

“Yes, Appa, we’re prepared.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “It’s only a week at home, and worst comes to worst, we come back here to get some things.”

“Yeah!” Harry agreed. “What’s the point of us packing anyway? We’ve got stuff at home.”

“Who says?” James asked, with a straight face.

“I say?” Harry said nervously.

“Ah, well, you’ll see.” James said, with a wave of his hand, before picking up his briefcase and approaching the fireplace. He tossed in a handful of Floo powder from the cup on the mantel and ghostly green flames rose up. “Well? Who’s first?”

“Me, me!” Drew insisted, already diving for the fireplace. The rest of his siblings followed after, toppling into the living room.

“Look at you overgrown bunch of baboons.” Anne’s head popped through the doorway, followed closely by the rest of her body. She was quickly scooped into Drew’s arms, Matt piling on as well.

“Anju!” He cried happily. “How are you? What have you been doing? Is Amma a good teacher?”

“Some potions, some books, a little bit of flying -- I’m basically a genius now.” Anne sighed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as Drew released her. She immediately made a beeline for James, who seemed thrilled to see her, his face lighting up even more at the sight of her.

“I’m so proud of you… My daughter, who I raised…” Drew wiped at an imaginary tear.

“You really are Appa’s son.” Sarah deadpanned.

“You can’t tell me what to do, Charu.” Drew said sagely.

“Amma!” Matt barrelled into his mother as she entered the living room, a towel thrown over her shoulder.

“Madhu! God, you’ve grown another foot, haven’t you?” She mock-complained, giving him a squeeze. “Where Hari? What’s he done, now?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Harry declared proudly. “No injuries to myself or others and my grades are stellar.”

“They told me this day would come…” Lily said, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “I never thought I’d live to see it!”

“I don’t know how you deal with them all.” Anne said, leaning into her father’s side.

“I don’t either.” James said. “It mostly just happens.”

* * *

After the children had all gone to sleep on the twenty-seventh of March -- though, presumably, at least Harry and Sarah were still awake -- Lily entered the bedroom she shared with her husband, two steaming mugs of tea in hand. James was sitting at the corner of their bed, back toward the door. As she sat beside him, offering him one of the mugs, she noticed he staring intently at his two way mirror.

“You’ve been brooding all night.” She told him. “Weird way to spend your birthday.”

“We’re old, Lily.” James shook his head. “No use partying on birthdays anymore. We’re better served by intense reflection.” He held up the mirror. “Which I am doing.”

“Hey, you’re more than welcome to challenge our teenagers to an angst-off.” Lily shrugged. “Or you could just tell me what’s on your mind.”

“There’s a lot on my mind.” James said. “The brain is the largest muscle in the body.”

“We’ve been dealing with a lot of everything for a long time now.” Lily said. “This is something else, isn’t it?”

“If you want an answer, just ask for it.” James put the mirror down gently on the bed, crossing his arms. “It’s that simple.”

“I know if you don’t say it yourself, you won’t talk about it.” Lily said, raising an eyebrow.

“There’s no use talking about some things.”

Lily didn’t answer, instead choosing to shrug and watch him expectantly.

“What do you want me to say?” James asked. “Am I upset? Definitely. I’m trying my best not to take it out on you or the kids, but something tells me that hasn’t been working.”

Lily thought back to earlier in the evening, when James had cut out of a conversation with Harry with an apologetic smile, a tightness around his eyes that had only developed in the past year or so. How he had easily fielded questions from Anne that had bordered on sensitive territory. “You did alright.” Lily assured him.

“Good.” James nodded sharply. “That’s all that matters, then.”

Lily glanced down at the mirror in his hand, then back up at her husband. “Have you talked to Remus at all, today?”

“He hasn’t been in the mood to talk.” James said. “Neither have I, if we’re being entirely honest.”

“I’m not going to force you, but we both know how you get when you bottle everything up.” Lily said, nudging him gently with her shoulder.

“Yes, we do.” James said, heaving a sigh. “Remus-- Remus and I talked yesterday. He knew today would be tough for both of us, so we wanted to get everything squared away before. And he brought up how… I’ve been purposefully trying to avoid thinking about it, but this is the first year without Sirius being here since… what, 1971? Been some twenty-five years since I’ve had a birthday without him. And it’s weird to not see him here. It’s weird to not have to watch out for what he might be goading the kids into. It’s weird. It’s weird and I don’t like it. There. It’s the same thing that I’ve been whining over since last June, so it’s not worth being upset about at this point.”

“James.” Lily reached over, placing a hand over her husband’s. “He was your brother. Arguably, he was closer to you than I ever could be, at least in certain ways. This isn’t something that’s just going to go away- it’s probably going to hurt you for the rest of your life. There’s no use feeling guilty about being sad.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s closer to me than you are.” James laughed. “There’s something to be said for marriage, at the end of the day.”

“Brothers and wives are different types of close.” Lily reminded him. “Now stop changing the subject.”

“No use feeling guilty.” James hummed. “That’s something to chew on.”

“It’s the truth.” Lily said, sipping her tea. “No one is going to be mad at you for being upset.”

“Weird to think about the war, too.” James said. “Last time this was happening, it was me, Sirius, Remus and Peter. And now, it’s just me and Remus left. He called us bookends.” James snorted. “Just Moony and Prongs left of the Marauders. Padfoot and Wormtail have been fired without pay. And god knows how long both of us will last. We’ve made targets of ourselves. Me especially.” He chuckled. “I’m surprised he hasn’t come after me already. Targeting kids is awfully unreliable. Hasn’t he heard that we don’t like the first one?”

Lily slapped her hand gently against his shoulder. “You’ll last a damn long time if I have any say in the matter. We’ve spent too long making get-away plans for you to go and die now.” She grumbled.

“I know.” James said. “Remus was saying yesterday… if it were going to be one of us, he’d rather it be him. And you know why he said it?”

“No grieving children?” Lily winced.

“So he wouldn’t have to watch me be all sad about it.” James shook his head. “I don’t know where anyone got the idea he was harmless. Tongue like an axe, that one.”

“It’s because he was the only one of you with any sense of subtlety.” Lily rolled her eyes. “He could pull off harsher tricks than you could dream up with all the time in the world and never get caught.”

“The rest of us did our best.” James said. “Well, I suppose I tried not to get caught but Sirius loved the idea, just because of how his parents were. And Peter… well, he had his own tricks to play, didn’t he?”

“And you wonder why I made friends with Remus before any of the rest of you.” Lily shook her head.

“An eternal mystery.” James picked up the mirror again, gently tossing it and catching it. He seemed to like the weight of it in his hands. “I was alright. Just wasn’t good about letting people get to know me until they were stealing clothes out of my trunk and regularly inhabiting large parts of my personal space. You got there eventually, but these boys…” He smiled fondly. “They got lucky, I suppose. I was quite the catch.”

“You were trying too hard to be likable, instead of yourself.” Lily corrected him. “Your three friends liked you because they were stuck in close enough proximity that they got to see the real you more than anyone else.”

“It was a tough time to be yourself back then.” James said. “I know, I know, being a Pureblood in a world built for me wasn’t that tough, but there were other complicating issues. Dad had trained that into me well, by the time I went to school. Best to forge connections early so you have favors to call on when the axe comes down on you. Of course, that kind of backfires a bit when you make friends with Expert Racist Sirius Black, doesn’t it?” He chuckled. “Whoops.”

“He was pretty bad.” Lily agreed with a chuckle.

“He got better.” James said. “Took some time and a couple solid beatings, but he came around.” James seemed to regret the statement as soon as it left his mouth, a slight scowl appearing, then disappearing quickly.

“Everything with him took time and a few beatings.” Lily said. “He was almost as stubborn as I am.”

“He was quite something.” James said. “Nearly tossed him out, when he came here in fifth year.” His expression turned even more somber, and he stared out the window into the backyard, as if looking for something. “I was convinced he was just having me on. Turning up looking like a drowned rat in the rain, saying something about how this was finally it and the world was ending. Took him being brought in and calming down some to explain everything.” He sighed. “We’ve been horribly secretive about that night, even with Remus and Peter. And you, I expect, unless Sirius’ spilled the whole story to you.”

“You mean when he ran away from home?” Lily asked, eyebrows furrowed. “I tried asking Regulus about it, after Slug Club, but he wouldn’t say anything.”

“As he shouldn’t have. It wasn’t our story to tell, at that point. Now… I guess it’s mine, seeing as neither of them are around to give their opinion.” James shrugged. “The whole war was bad, but he got the worst of it, of all of us. Maybe not you, you had a hell of a time, but besides you, he had it worst. It’s a big reason behind why I’m watching the Nott boy.”

“Theodore Nott?” Lily asked. “Hari said he’s kind of twitchy, but nice.”

“Reminds me of Remus at that age.” James cracked a smile. “He’s all serious business until he gets comfortable, and once he does… the boy’s much smarter than he lets on. It’s Malfoy’s lot being around him all the time that has him scared.”

“Well, Malfoys tend to do that to people.” Lily grimaced.

“I promised Sirius I’d look after any kid that came to me like that. Like he did. When I took the Hogwarts job, I promised him I’d help any one of them that wanted to get out of there.” James admitted. “Sirius did it, and he had all of us to dig him out of that hole, but… it’s nice to have an adult on your side, right?”

“It can make all the difference, to some children.” Lily said, staring into the dregs of her tea.

“It was just a promise before, but now, now that he’s gone… It feels like something else, you know? I wasn’t doing it just for him, Nott’s an excellent kid, but… it feels like I have to put in more into the war effort for Sirius now that he’s gone. More of myself, more time, more effort.” James said. “There isn’t enough of me to go around, I guess.” He shook his head. “And the people who end up losing out are you and the kids.”

“You don’t have to take responsibility for all of this, James.” Lily assured him, setting her mug on the cluttered bedside table.

“We’re here because I couldn’t kill the man in close quarters combat with an advantage.” James said. It was obviously intended as a joke, though the self-deprecating tone stripped all humor from his words. “Might as well take point in the second attempt.”

“You’re blaming yourself for all of this, because… what? You couldn’t kill him the first time?” Lily reached out, taking his hand in hers. “James, none of us knew he had horcruxes. We thought you killed him- we thought that was the end. None of this is your fault.”

“Do you ever wonder what they do down there? In the Department of Mysteries?” James asked suddenly. “I’ve heard bits and pieces from Arthur and others, but… that veil, something about it was just… unsettling.”

“... I heard things.” Lily murmured, recalling the battle. “When I got too close- I could hear… The TV, from my old house. Sounded like the evening news I used to watch with my dad.”

“Hari said the same thing, that he heard something. He heard my mother. He’s never met her, of course, so he didn’t know who it was, but when he told me what he heard… it had to have been her.” James frowned. “If-- if we can still hear them, then… no doubt Sirius is dead, you can’t come back from something like that, but…” His eyes dropped to the mirror in his hand. “I wonder what it’d be like. To hear his thoughts, right now. He’d have something to say about how I’m carrying on about all this, right?” James scoffed. “Maybe… maybe it’s a good thing he’s not around today. He’d be awful about it. Birthdays were his favorite.”

“Do you remember when he turned thirty, and he insisted we get a babysitter for the kids and get absolutely pissed, since he refused to get old gracefully?” Lily giggled, burying her face in James’ shoulder. “And the next morning we managed to convince him he’d gone and stolen a time turner and ended up stuck raising a baby centaur?”

“We’ll have to think up something for him, this year. Thirty-seven isn’t a big year, but we’re all too close to forty to ignore the last few glory years we have.” James said. “Last year it was too much to even think of, but this year… I think he’d like that much better than us making a spectacle of ourselves on the day he died. He always did like a good party. We’ll have to get the disgusting cake that nobody else likes.”

“We’ll make it a tradition.” Lily agreed. “We can buy one every year, for his birthday, and he can laugh at us wherever he is.”

“It’ll be a nice view, from hell.” James chuckled.

“Hey,” Lily hummed, “it’ll be a long time till we get visitation rights. Might as well brighten up his day somehow.”

* * *

“Dinner’s almost ready, honey.” Lily said, leaning against Sarah’s door frame. Her eldest daughter was sitting in bed, a book propped up in front of her, but she looked up when Lily spoke.

“How soon is almost?” Sarah asked, glancing back down at her book. “Can I keep going or do I need to get up immediately? I’m right at the end of the chapter, and I can’t leave off in the middle. Five minutes?”

“You’ve got time, don’t worry.” Lily laughed. “I figured you were doing something, so I wanted to give you time to finish.”

“Good.” She nodded, before going back to her story. She seemed to remember something suddenly and smiled at Lily. “Thanks. For telling me early.”

Lily, who had already turned to head back downstairs, turned back with a look of mild surprise. “Of course.” She said. “I know how you work, silly.”

“I’d imagine you have to.” Sarah shrugged. “It’s been what, thirteen years now?”

“Long enough that I’ve got the basics down, at least.” Lily agreed. “I’ll be testing for my advanced license soon.”

“Should tell Appa to get one of those.” Sarah joked. “He’s desperately in need of one. Sometimes I wonder if Madhu’s the only one of us he actually understands, and he’s just using a stock set of answers for the rest of us. I found them sitting under his desk earlier today. I’d come by early, of course, just in case Appa forgot he was taking us home, and they were just… there!” She shut her book and set it by her side, too outraged by this memory to properly focus on anything else. “Neither of them fit! And they’re not even thinking about what could be down there! Knowing Appa, he hasn’t cleaned anything but the top, and even that was probably done badly.”

Lily nodded understandingly, remember the time she’d taken Harry and Sarah to the supermarket as children, while James watched the triplets. She’d given them each a pound to spend, and Sarah had begged for a few extra pence so she could get disinfectant wipes. She had insisted that James couldn’t be trusted with cleaning up after the triplets, and that she was taking matters into her own hands.

“Those two are cut from the same cloth.” Lily agreed.

“That’s some strange cloth.”

“But we love them anyways.” Lily sighed.

“It’s remarkably hard not to.” Sarah smiled.

“They’re quite sweet, once you get used to them.” Lily said.

We’ve all had time for that.” Sarah said. “Madhu’s grown up a lot this year. I’m proud of him.”

“Me too.” Lily sighed. “I was so worried that he wouldn’t be able to make any friends, but look at him go.”

“We’ve all had to do some growing up, this year.” Sarah sighed. “But at least we’re all home now. You can keep an eye on us for a few more days.”

“Amma, Charu, dinner time!” Anne’s voice drifted up the stairs.

“Ah, looks like I took up all your reading time.” Lily laughed. “My bad.”

“We can keep talking on the way down, you know.” Sarah said. “The conversation doesn’t have to end here.”

Lily smiled softly, nodding. “You’re right, honey.” She agreed. “It doesn’t.”


	19. Dogs Are Better Than People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Another secret admirer?” Ron asked, rolling onto his back and sitting up.
> 
> “What do I tell this one?” Harry joked, pulling the parchment slip from the envelope. “I’m taking some time off from relationships to really get to know myself. Who am I outside of the hottest boy at Hogwarts? What do I really like?”
> 
> “Attention.” Hermione piped up. “You really like attention.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a point -- he does really like attention. 
> 
> This week's a break from the hard hitting stuff, except for the third scene -- we figured we'd upset you all enough last week with the James, Lily and Sirius scene. Instead of pain and suffering, have some adorable Drew and Sarah bonding and Matt and Bertie making summer plans!
> 
> Next week, we hit the dark stuff. If you have issues with depictions of injury or blood and character death (it will be off screen), I'd suggest coming to either myself or Lai for a chapter summary rather than reading by yourself. We'll make sure to put any warnings in the note next week, once we've written the chapter completely, but we wanted to put that out there sooner than later.
> 
> Have a great week, and if you're up for it, join us next week for a wild ride.
> 
> -S&L

“I’m glad to see you.” Sarah called out, from the stone bench she was sitting on. She smiled as Drew jogged up to her, messily rolling up his sleeves. As soon as he slid to a stop in front of her, she sighed, shaking her head, before redoing them for him so the cuffs were evenly sized, sitting neatly just above his elbows. “Better?”

“How’d you do that?” He asked, grinning. “I can never get them to be the right shape.”

“It’s easy.” Sarah shrugged. “You just use the size of the cuff as a marker, and then you--”

“Orrrr, I can just have a sister that knows how?” He asked innocently.

“Someday, you’re going to get married, and I’ll write your wife an apology letter.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “We’ll pin it to your shirt so you can’t lose it.”

“Shin-ji will take my side.” Drew said confidently.

“You’re still stuck on that?” Sarah asked. “I would’ve thought you would fold under the pressure.”

“True love must withstand many trials!” Drew said, puffing his chest out. “I’m going to ask her to marry me when we turn seventeen, and we’re going to be awesome.”

“Your determination is… impressive.” Sarah said thoughtfully.

“So you are taking my side.” Drew beamed.

“We’ll see.” Sarah said. “As you said, we’ll find out what happens in six years, won’t we?”

“But that’s such a long time.” He sighed.

“Hari’s been here for six years now.” Sarah pointed out. “Did it seem that long?”

“Well, he was always getting almost-murdered, so it was exciting.” Drew shrugged. “Anyways, when is Hagrid expecting us?”

“He said any time after six, and it is currently… five fifty-three.” Sarah said, pointing down the hill toward Hagrid’s hut. “We should be right on time.”

“Impressive… And here I thought you’d want us to be an hour early.” Drew hummed.

“I try.” Sarah smirked.

“Of course, I’m going to hang out with Hagrid. You just want to see Fang.”

“That’s not at all the case!” Sarah protested, before shrugging. “You’re right.”

“Why do you like dogs so much, anyways?” Drew asked. “You hate messy people, and dogs are all slobbery.”

“Dogs aren’t people. That crucial difference makes them both easier to deal with and more tolerable.” Sarah said. “Besides, they seem much better than brothers.”

“All brothers?” Drew wheedled.

“Of course not. Only some brothers.” Sarah said, ruffling Drew’s hair. “Right, so how is school these days? Did the notes I gave help?”

He puffed out a sigh. “Kind of? It helps me to answer questions correctly, sometimes, but I still don’t understand why that’s the answer, you know?” He said.

“I’ll catch you up over the summer.” Sarah said. Drew stiffened, as if expecting some lengthy, sanctimonious speech. “You and Anju both. Most of the teachers here don’t explain anything.”

“And you do?” He asked, smile looking rather pasted on. When they were younger, Sarah had often admonished him for not doing well in school, as though she thought he simply wasn’t putting enough effort in.

“You forget that I know you, Adithya.” Sarah said brusquely. “I’ve watched you learn for too long not to know what works.”

“Aw, you do care.” Drew said happily. “Maybe I’ll get Anju to bake you a cake to say thanks. Or, hey! I’ll get you a new book or something.”

“I have an idea.” Sarah said, as the two approached the door of Hagrid’s hut. Sarah knocked on the door, and upon hearing a shouted “I’m comin’” from the inside, stepped back to join Drew again. “Play Quidditch with me. On my side. That’s all I need.”

Before Drew could respond, the door swung open, revealing Hagrid. He looked even more frazzled than he had Sarah’s first year, and his tangled beard was now shot through with streaks of gray. Against all odds, even Hagrid was growing old.

“Hagrid!” Drew said, throwing his arms in the air. “How have you been?”

Sarah, rather than greeting Hagrid, tiptoed slowly inward, eyes sweeping the room. When Fang saw her, he pounced upon her in delight, slobbering all over the jumper she’d stolen from her mother’s closet during the Easter holidays. It was a little big on her, but still smelled of Lily’s perfume, and now dog slobber. Sarah didn’t seem to mind, and cooed at Fang as one would to a child as she rubbed behind his ears.

“Ah, and Little Miss Sarah’s found a friend, hasn’t she?” Hagrid laughed. “A reunion, more like.”

“She likes her men like Fang. Unable to talk back.” Drew said fondly.

“So does your mother.” Hagrid said. “I s’pose it runs in the family.”

“Anne too, really.” Drew mused.

“How’ve you two been?” Hagrid asked, once Sarah and Fang’s war for dominance had ended in Fang laying across Sarah’s lap like a furry, warm blanket. He seemed exhausted, and snuffled happily when she rubbed his back. “You look well, Sarah.”

“I’ve been well.” Sarah said, smiling fondly at Fang. “School hasn’t been all that difficult, this year. I wonder if the first year is just to scare us off.”

“I second that idea.” Drew said, climbing into one of the chairs. “School sucks.”

“Nonsense, Drew.” Sarah scoffed. “You’re doing just fine.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Drew asked.

“I’m sure our Drew’s doing perfectly.” Hagrid shook Drew by the shoulders playfully before mussing up his hair. “You work hard and that’s what matters.”

“He certainly does.” Sarah agreed. “Save for Matt, he’s the most motivated of us all.”

“Well Harry is pretty motivated, I’d say.” Drew said.

“He’s only motivated when he’s doing something wrong.” Sarah scowled. “He’s probably off doing something wrong right now.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Hagrid shuddered. “Though, by my reckoning, this year’s been awful quiet on his end.”

“Which only means he’s going to pull off something all the more dangerous to cap it off.” Sarah pointed it out. “You can’t deny there’s a pattern, at this point. Right, Fang?”

Fang lifted his head to let out a loud bark, before knocking the top of his head against Sarah’s palm.

“Fine.” She sighed theatrically, before petting his head. “If you insist.”

Drew got to his feet, moving to help Sarah pet Fang. “Who’s a good boy?” He cooed.

“I hope me an’ Grawp end up like you two someday.” Hagrid said.

“Have faith, Hagrid.” Sarah smiled at Drew. “It’ll happen, with time.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re almost a second year.” Bertie said, after gulping down a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie. He and Matt had hidden themselves away in a corner of the kitchens after the older Hufflepuffs had decided tonight was the right night to start a party in the Common Room. Bertie had been easily convinced at the promise of snacks, though he still seemed perplexed by the enthusiasm of one particular house elf, wearing multiple pairs of confusingly patterned socks.

“Me either.” Matt hummed, holding one of the still-warm cookies in his hands. “I mean, between searching for secret passages and making a list of friendly paintings, I hadn’t realized so much time was passing.”

“You’ve grown, too.” Bertie reached across the table to pat Matt’s head. “Still just as skinny, but definitely taller.”

“Maybe I’ll be as tall as my dad one day.” Matt said thoughtfully.

“Your dad’s huge.” Bertie laughed. “Stands to reason that you’d be just like him.”

“Ha! I get it. Stands. Cause I’ll be tall, when I’m standing.” Matt giggled.

“You’re a funny one, Potter.” Bertie grinned. “It’s my favorite.”

“You’re my favorite friend, too.” Matt assured him.

“So. Plans for the summer?” Bertie asked, before cramming another cookie into his mouth. Matt wrinkled his nose fondly as he moved to avoid the spray of crumbs. “I’ll be with Mum for most of it, then a few weeks with Dad in the middle. Not sure what he wants with me, but it won’t be fun.” He scowled. “Probably just wants to trot out his son and heir for a few parties before sending me back to Mum for the hard parts.”

“You can always come to my house. We’re purebloods, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. It’s a… socializing experience?” Matt suggested. “It does get pretty dramatic at home, but it’s fun.”

“How dramatic are we talking?” Bertie asked, eyes alight with glee. “I heard your oldest brother got beaten up by fake birds and cried about it.”

“I’d forgotten about that.” Matt hummed. “That’s really not anything exciting- maybe a one on a scale of one to ten?”

“Wow!” Bertie’s eyes grew round. “Is that really just a one?”

“I’d say the time he enchanted a book to look like a bagel and got mom to try and eat it when she was too tired to question reality was a solid six.” He decided after a moment of thought.

“Wow.” Bertie shook his head slowly. “We had very different childhoods.”

“Growing up with older siblings is nice.” Matt said. “I never have to introduce myself.”

“People see you coming and they just scatter.” Bertie giggled. “Can’t wait for when everyone finds out that you’re about as dangerous as a baby rabbit.”

“I am not.” He pouted.

“Sure you are.” Bertie said. “Soft and smiley, and you’ve got legs.”

“... I have legs…” Matt repeated, eyebrows furrowing.

“Rabbits do too.” Bertie winked. “I’ve won that argument. Fair and square.”

Matt giggled, covering his mouth with his hand. “Alright, fine. I’m a baby rabbit.”

“If--If your offer’s still open, I’d love to come over a night.” Bertie said nervously. “We might have fun. No, we will. We definitely will.”

“Of course we will.” Matt said. “We’re very good at making forts, and Anne and my dad make good food.

“Good food?” Bertie said. “Count me in! What kind of food?”

“Oh, well, um… Mostly vegetarian stuff.” Matt said. “Actually, all of it is vegetarian? I like it when dad makes paruppu usiliyal, it’s got a lot of vegetables and spices, and it’s not as heavy as most of the food here… Anne likes to bake, though, so if you like sweet stuff like cookies, she’ll be happy to do that.”

“You don’t eat any meat?” Bertie asked curiously. “At all? Ever?”

“Nope. We’re all vegetarians except Mum, but she barely ever eats meat anymore, since the rest of us don’t.” Matt shrugged.

“That’s pretty cool.” Bertie said. “Is it… is it a religion thing? Or something else?”

“It’s a religion thing.” Matt said. “We aren’t supposed to touch any animal products- kind of makes Potions class hard.”

“It sounds like it.” Bertie shook his head. “Do you have a partner in class that helps you with that stuff?”

“Kind of.” Matt said. “I try and do a lot of the work that involves the other ingredients, and I think they only agreed to do the animal bits because they didn’t want to fail. I don’t mind, though, as long as I don’t actually have to handle it.”

“Some of that stuff is really gross.” Bertie said. “It was weird, coming here for the first time and learning about all that. I knew some stuff through Dad, but nobody does things like this in Muggle school. Except for frog parts, we do a lot with those for some reason. I don’t know what the frogs did wrong.”

“We never had to do those.” Matt said, sounding relieved. “I think we were supposed to once we got to secondary school, but I was obviously never going to attend…”

“I got lucky, not having to go to secondary.” Bertie chuckled. “Can’t do math to save my life.”

“Mum is always complaining about how math is an elective for wizards.” Matt admitted. “But I prefer history, anyways. It’s easier to remember names than formulas.”

“History?” Bertie asked. “You do like to read. That makes sense! Magic or Muggle history, which one’s better?”

“I like both! I really like how they connect, actually? How the two affect each other.” Matt said, kicking his feet. “Not many people seem to think about that, for some reason.”

“I mean, we share the same country.” Bertie said. “It’d make sense that what one does affects the other.”

“I hate that the wizarding world is so against contact with muggles- or even learning anything about them! Their technology is leaps and bounds beyond anything we have, but everyone is so convinced magic is superior.” Matt said, uncharacteristically passionate. “The Statue of Secrecy is a real pain in the butt.”

“Maybe it’ll end.” Bertie suggested. “I don’t want something to happen to make that happen, but it seems like something’s coming, and it might as well wipe this out too. It made sense in the olden days, but now… what’s going to hurt anyone?”

“I guess… fear? People get scared and do dumb things.” Matt sighed. “But think about all the good that could come from it!”

“You’re only scared of stuff you don’t know about.” Bertie shrugged. “What if the Muggles and wizards got to know each other? Then they wouldn’t be scared. A lot of good could come of it, like you said.”

“There are half bloods everywhere, and muggleborns, too.” Matt said. “You’d think that would be enough to get things started.”

“Guess that’s what all of us are gonna have to do when we get old.” Bertie grinned. “If the adults won’t do it, why shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah.” Matt said, smiling up at Bertie. “Why not?”

* * *

“I hate Mondays.” Harry groused as he sunk into the softest chair by the fireplace. “Everything’s just annoying on Mondays. I want the weekend back.”

“Weekends are so good…” Ron mumbled into the carpet.

“We have Defense on Mondays.” Hermione said, confused. “I thought that was your favorite.”

“Yeah, sure, spending time with my dad in public. My favorite way to spend time.” Harry scoffed. “Best Monday ever. I’m not sure who’s telling him intimate details about my life, but he can’t make the jokes he’s making without some exchange of information.”

“This is why I’m glad my parents didn’t become teachers.” Ron hummed.

“I wish my dad hadn’t chosen this job, but what can we do now?” Harry sighed. “We’re stuck with the ripple effect of his choices.”

“He made one good decision, at least, and it’s sitting in this room.” Ron said, finally propping himself up on his elbows.

“You’re the best friend ever, Ron.” Harry said, placing a hand over his heart like a grandmother watching a video of her grandchild reaching a developmental milestone. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“Love you too, Harry.” He laughed.

“I’m beginning to understand what the broom closet was about.” Hermione said. “No wonder everyone thought you were together.”

“I like to subvert expectations.” Harry grinned. “What can I say? I live for drama.”

“That you do.” Hermione scowled momentarily, as a timid looking first year entered through the portrait hole. She approached the trio hesitantly, a folded piece of parchment sticking out of a lilac colored envelope that it had been hastily shoved into, before holding the message out to Harry. The minute he plucked it from her fingers, she ran up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, looking rather embarrassed.

“Another secret admirer?” Ron asked, rolling onto his back and sitting up.

“What do I tell this one?” Harry joked, pulling the parchment slip from the envelope. “I’m taking some time off from relationships to really get to know myself. Who am I outside of the hottest boy at Hogwarts? What do I really like?”

“Attention.” Hermione piped up. “You really like attention.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now without the input of my friends.” Harry said proudly. “I would be nothing without Hermione.”

“You would be dead without Hermione.” Hermione corrected.

“Me too.” Ron agreed, leaning against Hermione’s legs. “What evil plan is she keeping us around for?”

“The evil, twisted plan of social progress.” Hermione said. “After that, you’re expendable.”

“We die when racism dies.” Ron hummed.

“We’re going to be immortal, Ron.” Harry whispered in awe.

“You don’t think we can fix it?” Ron asked.

“Unconscious biases will take forever to eradicate. There’s bigger things to worry about.” Hermione said. “Like the regulations against werewolves and vampires and house elves and merpeople. Those need to be entirely rewritten and reframed to allow them the freedom that we’ve denied them for so long. Werewolves deserve steady employment and cheap, readily available health care. House elves should be allowed to work for pay without any social stigma. Merpeople should be allowed an opinion in matters of pollution and environmental regulations and--”

“Hermione, you owe it to the world to run for Minister of Magic.” Ron said, looking up at her seriously. “You’re the smartest person probably ever, and you’re really passionate about helping people in need. You’ve got my vote, even if it technically doesn’t mean shit.”

“You’re both gross.” Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Oh, wait, if Hermione’s the Minister of Magic, what are you going to do, Ron? I know that Career Advisory meeting was quite something last year.”

“I’m going to be Hermione’s trophy husband.” He shrugged. “Or yours, Harry, if she won’t take me.”

“That’s quite the plan.” Hermione said, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You certainly do have the details figured out.”

“Thank you, thank you, I’m almost as smart as you.” He laughed.

“And you, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Dunno.” Harry shrugged. “Figured I’d be right at your heels with the saving the world one law explosion at a time thing. Boom.”

“Saving the world one law explosion at a time.” Hermione couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “We’re saving that slogan.”

“Harry was made to be a poster slogan.” Ron chuckled.

“My job is to be quotable and pretty.” Harry said. “I do both things every day.”

“Hey, what’s in that letter, anyways?”

“I forgot about it completely, would you look at that!” Harry chuckled as he unfolded the paper. As he read the words, his smile dropped, and his jaw grew tense. By the time he refolded it, stuffing it in his pocket, Harry seemed flighty, looking toward the portrait hole furtively.

“What-- what was that?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“Harry?” Ron sat up, looking concerned.

“Dumbledore wants to see me.” Harry said. “He’s-- he’s found something, and he needs me to go with him. It could be dangerous.” He stood up suddenly. “He says to report to his office immediately, so, uh, I really hate Mondays now, and I’m kind of scared, but it’s going to be okay in general.” He nodded. “Yeah. So, uh, see you later.”

“Wait- what? Harry!”

“You can’t go off with him alone!” Hermione said, standing up as well. “We’re going with you.”

“You can’t.”

“Of course we can.” Ron said, already getting to his feet.

“The note says I have to come alone.” Harry said, holding it out to Ron.

He snatched it from Harry, quickly scanning the words. His expression tightened. “... It does.”

“But-- he can’t just take you! That’s dangerous!” Hermione protested. “And with what you’ve been telling me, about all the things he’s telling you and all the things he’s doing… I don’t trust him alone with you and neither does Ron. Where is he taking you? What are you fighting?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He still hadn’t told Ron and Hermione about the Horcruxes, and he knew that saying anything now would result in Hermione marching right up to Dumbledore’s office and giving him a piece of her mind. If she knew he was going up against a piece of Voldemort’s soul, even with Dumbledore right there, Hermione would be furious.

“I don’t know.” Harry said. “I’ll find out when I get there, I suppose. And if it’s too dangerous, I’ll tell him off. I’ll be right back, if it’s too much. I swear on my mother’s life.”

“You’d better love your mother.” Ron said, crossing his arms.

“I do, don’t worry.” Harry took a deep breath before beginning his slow trek toward the portrait hole. Before going through, he looked back over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione, who were staring after him with fear written all over their faces. “I promise. I’ll be back. This is all going to be nothing, I promise.”

His stomach churned uncomfortably as he climbed through the portrait hole.

He hated lying to his friends, but sometimes, it was necessary.


	20. For The Love Of God, Please Fact Check Your Sources

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Harry, my boy…” He drew himself up, pushing his shoulders back as though to disguise the moment of weakness. “I’m sorry to call you here so late. But we’ve managed to locate a horcrux.”
> 
> “Another one?” Harry asked. “Where?”
> 
> Dumbledore swept past him, pacing in front of his desk. “A cave, near the edge of the sea.” He hummed. “It’s near the orphanage where Voldemort lived as a boy, and we have reason to believe it had an impact on him. Enough that it would hold significance for him to use it as a hiding place now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of an era. Most of you know what's happening this chapter, but we hope you read it regardless. 
> 
> From this chapter on, nobody comes back the same. The next year in this family's lives is going to be a tumultuous one, and we're glad to have you along for the ride.
> 
> Remember, there are two more chapters left in this book before we move on to Book 7, which finally has a name: Harry Potter and the Unusually Long Camping Trip! Get pumped!
> 
> -S&L

Harry knocked on Dumbledore’s table, confused about how Dumbledore hadn't noticed his presence for this long. Usually the old man knew where he was from the second he set foot on the landing. This was odd, even for him.

Dumbledore was standing in front of the pensieve, his gaze trained on the swirling memories within. He had forgone his usual elaborate robes for something more well-worn and subtle, dark fabric falling over his frame. He turned, tired eyes catching Harry’s own, and for a moment the two of them stood in silence.

“Harry, my boy…” He drew himself up, pushing his shoulders back as though to disguise the moment of weakness. “I’m sorry to call you here so late. But we’ve managed to locate a horcrux.”

“Another one?” Harry asked. “Where?”

Dumbledore swept past him, pacing in front of his desk. “A cave, near the edge of the sea.” He hummed. “It’s near the orphanage where Voldemort lived as a boy, and we have reason to believe it had an impact on him. Enough that it would hold significance for him to use it as a hiding place now.”

Harry grimaced. “Most kids like tree houses or parks. Figures Voldemort would hide his soul in a cave.”

“I’ll sidelong apparate you to the outside of the cave, but there are heavy wards placed all around it. Getting inside will not be easy.” Dumbledore said, ignoring Harry’s comment.

“I thought you couldn't apparate inside the school.” Harry said. Hermione had been reminding Ron of that incessantly lately, since threatening to Apparate away from her had become Ron’s new default response to criticism.

“I don’t recall implying we would be apparating from here.” Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m going to cast a disillusionment charm on you, and we’ll go down into Hogsmeade.”

“Just to go into Hogsmeade?”

“Harry, if we’re going to do this, I need you to promise not to question me.” He said, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “This is of the utmost important.”

“I'll listen.” Harry nodded. “It's-- this is important.”

Dumbledore stepped back, pulling his wand from the folds of his sleeve and tapping it against Harry’s forehead. Harry felt uncomfortable, like someone had pushed him into a shower stall. Something thick and warm ran down his body from where Dumbledore’s wand had touched his head, and when he lifted his hand in front of his face, he found it to be invisible.

“Weird.” Harry said.

Dumbledore chuckled, once again stowing his wand in his sleeve. “Remember to keep quiet, so no one knows you’re there.” He warned. “I’ll trust you to keep up.”

The pair left the room and made their way through the winding passages of the castle. The night air was cool on Harry’s face, and their trek across the grounds and into the quiet town was uneventful. The streets were empty, despite the lights in the Three Broomsticks being on, and quite a bit of noise coming from its open door.

Dumbledore passed by without a glance, disappearing into a dark side street. “Harry?”

“How are we getting to the cave from here?”

Dumbledore smiled mischievously and reached out to take Harry’s arm. “Do try not to be sick, my boy.”

Harry felt as if he was being squeezed uncomfortably tightly, memories of the graveyard unpleasantly swirling around in his head. He couldn't have been happier when the dreadful experience came to an end and he and Dumbledore found themselves on a rocky outcropping in what appeared to be the ocean. Harry looked around, wide eyed, as the wet, salty wind rushed around them. He wondered where the cave was -- he couldn't see anything that looked like a cave.

“Follow me.” Dumbledore started walked confidently, despite the wet, craggy rock they found themselves on. Rounding a corner, Harry saw a set of narrow stairs carved into the edge of the cliffside, leading downwards at an alarming angle.

Harry held tightly onto Dumbledore as they maneuvered their way down the small, wet stairs toward a rather large boulder.

Dumbledore waved his wand, causing the stone to grind slowly to the side, revealing a dark passage. Dumbledore stepped down, the ends of his robes disappearing into what appeared to be rather deep water. “You can swim, I assume?”

“I can swim.” Harry nodded, and watched in surprise as Dumbledore, much more athletically than Harry would have assumed given his age, dove into the water and began to swim.

Harry jumped in after him, feeling wet, heavy and altogether miserable, but the act of swimming itself was easily enough done. After being tossed in the Thanjavur tank enough, Harry had gotten the hang of it. He lost himself in the easy, repetitive motion, his thoughts wandering until he noticed Dumbledore pulling himself out of the water and very nearly avoided swimming face first into an outcropping of rock. He clambered up alongside Dumbledore, and smiled gratefully when a warming charm was cast on him, drying out his clothes and leaving him feeling delightfully at ease.

“The horcrux is here.” Dumbledore said, turning away from Harry.

“How do you know?” Harry asked. They were surrounded by dark, wet walls of rock, and before them was a thick wall. Dumbledore seemed intent to touch every inch of it, obsessively running his hands over the wall. He found a particular spot and nodded to himself.

He stepped back, producing what appeared to be a muggle pocketknife from the folds of his robe. Without hesitation, he drew the blade across his palm, and then smeared the blood leaking from his hand across the stone.

“Why did you use your blood?” Harry asked. Wasn't this what Dumbledore had asked Harry’s unquestioning obedience for? “Why not mine?”

“You’re a child, Harry,” he said, not looking back, “I couldn’t ask that of you.”

The wall let out a low rumble and the passage seemed to shake around them. Harry ducked automatically, half expecting a cave-in, but Dumbledore watched serenely as the wall slowly formed an archway into what sounded like a much larger cave.

“In here, I can feel it.” Dumbledore hummed.

“Where?” Harry asked. He could see nothing but a soft green light, emanating from somewhere in the oppressive darkness.

Dumbledore stepped through the archway, kneeling down and examining the floor for a moment. Harry squinted, realizing belatedly that the rocky outcropping they were standing on gave way to a large lake full of murky green water. When the Headmaster stood back up, he was holding a thin chain in one hand. “Help me with this, would you?” He asked, handing part of the chain to Harry.

The two of them pulled on the chain for several moments, and from the gloom a small boat began to approach. It nudged gently against the rock they were standing on, prompting the two of them to clamber into the boat. After both of them had taken a seat, the boat automatically began sliding through the water.

Harry leaned over the edge of the boat, watching the murky water speed by. Something was moving in the depths of it, and Harry watched it nervously. Was this where Voldemort was hiding? His throat grew tight and warm, his chest felt heavy. Was he waiting to burst out of the water and kill them both? And then, something pale and white emerged, and Harry, bile rising to the back of his throat, realized it was a hand.

“They won’t touch you if you don’t bother them.” Dumbledore said, voice carefully composed and his gaze staring unwaveringly forward.

Harry swallowed, leaning back into the boat and dutifully ignoring the water that now surrounded them. The rest of the boat ride was silent, and Harry was careful to keep his feet far from the lapping edge of the water when it finally landed on a small island at the center of the lake. It was completely empty, except for a large basin on a raised dais.

Dumbledore approached the dais without pause, immediately producing his wand and waving it over the unseen contents. He murmured a few things to himself before sighing and turning to look at Harry. “Come here, my boy.” He said. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to drink this.”

“But you don’t know what it is.” Harry joined him by the basin, peering into it. The potion within was a strange shade of green, and Harry looked up from the ever shifting surface to Dumbledore’s face, the green light making him look even older. “Why would you drink it if you don’t know what it is?”

“Harry,” he said, voice firm, “I meant it when I said you cannot question me. This is something that must be done, and I need you to make sure that I drink all of this. No matter what I do, no matter what I say, I must drink all of it.”

“But-- you don’t know what that is!” Harry exclaimed. “Voldemort could have done anything! He could have made up some kind of poison, or maybe it’s food colored bleach, or, I don’t know, I don’t trust it. I don’t trust it and neither should you.”

Dumbledore reached out, spindly fingers clasping Harry’s shoulder firmly. “This is war, Harry. Defeating Voldemort is our end goal- whatever sacrifices it takes to get there mean nothing. We must emerge victorious.”

“It’s not safe.” Harry said softly, a grim expression on his face.

“You promised me, Harry.” Dumbledore said, expression grave.

“Fine.” Harry said. There was a vial floating in the potion, and he grabbed it by the handle, filling it with the green liquid, before passing it to Dumbledore. Some of the potion dripped down his knuckles, and he wiped his hand off on his pants as Dumbledore calmly drank it down, pausing for a moment afterward, his head cocked to the right, as if something curious had just occurred to him.

Harry took the vial from him, and had just begun to fill it again, when Dumbledore whimpered as if his heart had just been wrenched out of his chest. Harry turned to see him shivering, eyes wide in pain, or perhaps fear, as he looked wildly around the cave. The hands holding the now filled vial began to shake, and Harry handed the potion to Dumbledore again with as much resolve as he could muster.

Something about this was not right.

Dumbledore downed the potion before letting out a pained gasp. “Water…” He rasped, suddenly. “Please, Harry, do you have any water?”

“You-- You told me to listen.” Harry said, filling the vial again. He held it to Dumbledore’s lips, trying to ignore the look of betrayal in Dumbledore’s eyes as the potion flooded his mouth. “You told me to follow your orders, and I’m just… I’m just doing that, that’s all.”

He returned to the basin to fill the vial again, biting his lip as he tried to scoop up as much potion as possible, and tipped Dumbledore’s head back, reminded oddly of how his parents would force Matt to eat when he didn’t want to. It felt oddly like forcing a child to swallow, not like following orders set by a grown man, especially as Dumbledore pawed at him, pleading wildly as Harry grimly reminded him that he had set this order and that Harry had promised to follow whatever he was told.

“Please…” He begged, sinking to the floor and leaning heavily against the side of the basin. “Water… please…”

“We’re almost done.” Harry said, scooping up another vial full of the potion. “Almost done, just a few more.” He could see a glint of gold, this time, through the rapidly thinning layer of potion above whatever this Horcrux was. It was jewelry again -- it made sense, with who Voldemort was, seeing as he’d only picked objects of value before. His diary had been the one outlier, but maybe it had been chosen because it had value to Voldemort himself, not others.

It was easier to force the potion on Dumbledore when he didn’t think about it, and it was long past time that he thought about the Horcrux itself. What were they about to find? What were they here to battle?

“Just a few more.” Harry said, handing the vial to Dumbledore in the hopes that he might drink it under his own power. To Harry’s relief, he did, though it seemed to pain him greatly to do so. “I can almost see it. We’re almost there.”

Harry returned to the basin with the empty vial, filling it before crouching at Dumbledore’s side again.

He was pale and shaking, gaze distant. His eyelids were drooping and his hands twitched violently in his lap.

“Professor?” Harry asked, patting Dumbledore’s face. He got no response, and drew his wand. “Rennervate!”

“What? Wh… what is…?” He stared up at Harry with wide eyes, obviously horrified by something he saw there.

“Here, drink this.” Harry said, feeling terrible. Dumbledore, thinking Harry was offering some kind of strengthening potion, eagerly gulped the contents of the vial down before groaning in pain, thrashing his head around.

Harry rushed to pluck the vial from his fingers, scooping up the last of the basin’s contents before tipping them into Dumbledore’s mouth. A wave of relief swept over him, and he helped Dumbledore to his feet, not encouraged by the way the man’s body shook from the exertion of merely standing.

“We did it.” Harry said, helping Dumbledore over to the basin. He hadn’t paid any attention to what was at the bottom, having been focused solely on ridding the bowl of the potion, but his heart sunk when he saw a familiar locket, a golden chain he’d seen too often coiled around itself. “We-- We--”

“What… What is it? What’s wrong?” Dumbledore grasped at the side of the basin with shaking hands, pulling himself unsteadily to his feet. He stared down at the locket, confusion clear on his face. “I’ve… I’ve seen that before, haven’t I…? I…”

“Let’s-- Let’s get back to Hogwarts, Professor.” Harry said, trying not to let his fear creep into his voice. He knew this was a trap. He’d known from the beginning. If it was a trap, he might as well die with the fake locket in his hand. He picked it up, gripping the chain so hard that it left indents in his palm before slipping it into his pocket. “Let’s get back to Hogwarts and get you to the infirmary.”

“We found that already.” Dumbledore said, a vague air settling around him. “I’m quite sure of it… haven’t we destroyed that, already?”

“We found the locket already.” Harry confirmed, helping Dumbledore into the boat. The Inferi wouldn’t bother them if he didn’t bother them. The Inferi wouldn’t bother them. Dumbledore had said so. Though now, with the ultimate disappointment of not finding a Horcrux when one was almost handed to them, Harry was not sure how much weight to put on Dumbledore’s words at all. “We found it, and it’s gone. This…. I don’t know what this is.”

He held his breath until they reached the other side of the lake, and Harry rushed through the cave, unendingly grateful that he remembered the route they’d taken to the inside of the cave. It was harder this time, with Dumbledore being hardly more than dead weight, and took longer, but soon enough, they were clambering up the wet, slippery stairs, the salt spray of the ocean slapping their faces, to the rocky point onto which Dumbledore had apparated them.

“Alright.” Harry said, panting from the exertion. “How do we get back?”

“I don’t… What? Back where?” Dumbledore clutched at his head, emitting a soft groan. “I don’t think I’m strong enough… What was in that basin?”

“I can’t Apparate!” Harry said, the memory of the graveyard setting him on edge. He had, but was that information Dumbledore needed to know? What had this year been all about, if it had lead him to a false trail? “I haven’t taken the class or anything!”

“No, no, you can do it. Imagine it.” Dumbledore shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “Picture where you want to go clearly and… grasp onto my arm firmly, my boy.”

Harry closed his eyes, imagining the alley off Hogsmeade’s high road, as Dumbledore had told him. He tried to remember what it smelled like, what it looked like, tried to visualize every inch of brick that made up the wall of the Hog’s Head and himself and Dumbledore landing on the dusty alley floor. Suddenly, there was a rushing sound around him and a great, searing pain ripped through his shoulder, forcing Harry to gasp for breath. Between the pain and the strange sensation of being spun so quickly that he could hardly see, Harry was hardly in any shape to stand when they toppled onto the alley floor beside the Hog’s Head, as Harry had intended.

Dumbledore stumbled forward, bracing himself against the wall of the alley and drawing in a deep breath. He attempted to square his shoulders, ignoring the shaking of his frame as he looked up at Harry. “Your shoulder…” He mumbled, cursing softly under his breath as he moved back towards Harry.

Harry blinked in surprise, trying to sit up, but found himself too weak to do so. When Dumbledore gently helped him up, they both stumbled, but found a rhythm that allowed them both to begin the walk back up to Hogwarts, Harry leaning heavily on Dumbledore rather than the other way around.

“When we get back to the school, you are to go directly to the hospital wing.” Dumbledore informed him, sounding much more like himself now that he had a clear objective in mind.

“D--Don’t you need to--” Harry began, but was stopped by another sharp wave of pain, strong enough to make him nauseous, from his shoulder being jarred by a bump against Dumbledore’s. “Don’t you need to…”

“Don’t worry about me, my boy.”

The cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade slowly gave way to the school grounds. The pair would have been an odd sight, stumbling through the grass in the dead of night, blood beginning to soak through the fabric of Harry’s clothes. Luckily, no one was watching. If they had, their attention would have been caught, perhaps, by the seething mass of smoke hanging above the highest tower, in the shape of the dark mark.

Dumbledore’s lips were pressed into a thin line as they struggled up the steps towards the front of the school. “Will you be able to make it to the infirmary by yourself, Harry?”

“I-- I think so.” Harry said, letting go of Dumbledore to take a few, shaky steps alone. “Yeah, I can manage.”

“I need to go investigate.” Dumbledore said, pulling away and standing on shaky feet.

“But Professor, you’re injured as well.” Harry said, frowning.

“Not nearly as bad as you are- please, worry only for yourself.” Dumbledore raised a hand to ward off any more protests. “This is a pressing matter, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. “Will you be back afterwards?”

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again, my boy.” Dumbledore said, offering a tired smile.

“I’ve-- I’ve got the fake locket.” Harry patted his pocket clumsily. “For when you need it.”

“I suspect, Harry,” he said as he began up a nearby set of stairs, “that you may need it far more than I.”

* * *

 

Harry clutched his arm to his side as he trudged up the stairs, head spinning. He could feel his heart beating rapidly in his ears, which he was quite sure was not where a heart should be. He leaned heavily on the bannister until he reached the last landing, and stumbled over to the door of the hospital wing, managing one knock before the door swung open to reveal Poppy Pomfrey looking positively furious.

“Headmaster Dumbledore told me to expect you.” She said, helping Harry to the closest bed before helping him out of his bloodied shirt. “You tried to Apparate without a license? That’s asking for injury. Uniquely irresponsible.” She drew a vial of Dittany from her belt and shook a few drops onto Harry’s shoulder, which was now missing a large chunk, like someone had taken a bite out of him. “Why, Harry? Why not let him do it?”

“I don’t know.” Harry’s head swam, and he fought to keep his eyes open. He felt Madam Pomfrey’s hand on his forehead, and it felt so warm. Why did it feel so warm? He tried to shy away from her, and heaved a sigh of relief when her hand withdrew. She looked confused. What was happening? “I-- I had to. Something’s wrong with Dumbledore. Something’s-- Something’s really wrong. He told me to go, and something was about to happen, and…”

“You need some sleep, Mr. Potter.” Madam Pomfrey patted his head, wincing as she felt his wet, sweaty hair slick against her fingers. “You need to rest now. Professor Dumbledore can take care of himself.”

“He can’t, Madam Pomfrey.” Harry said, voice cracking. He felt as if he were near tears, but couldn’t understand why. “He can’t. He-- he took some potion, drank all of it, and I don’t know what the potion did to him. I had to Apparate because he couldn’t. I-- I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s not good.”

“I’m calling your parents right now.” Madam Pomfrey said, quickly making her way to the fireplace. She tossed a handful of Floo Powder in, and Harry watched as his mother’s blurry face appeared in the flames, looking rather worried. As Madam Pomfrey continued to speak, his mother seemed to become even more worried, and looked rather upset by the end.

“I’m coming through in a few minutes.” Lily Evans choked out. “Let me get the kids all settled and I’ll be right there.”

Harry tossed his head from side to side, well aware, even in this state, that his mother seeing him in the hospital wing was both unnecessary and the most unpleasant option.

Madam Pomfrey returned to his bedside with a vial of something red in her hands, and he opened his mouth obediently her to pour it in before grimacing at the taste. Immediately, he felt better, but a tremendous need for sleep overcame him, settling over his body like a heavy blanket.

“Good thing your father made up a batch of Blood Replenishing Potion.” Madam Pomfrey said. “Or I don’t know what we would’ve done with you.” She ruffled Harry’s hair fondly, wiping her hand off on her apron. “Trouble really does find you anywhere.”

Suddenly, a chorus of screams erupted from the courtyard several floors below, each more terrified than the last. Madam Pomfrey looked up from Harry in worry, scanning the room before realizing the sound had come from outside.

“What’s-- What’s happening? Why is there screaming?” Harry asked, each word feeling like it had climbed atop a high mountain to escape his dry lips. He tried to sit up, but found himself drained. “What-- What happened?”

“You stay right here.” Madam Pomfrey said, retrieving a warm blanket from the cupboard to replace the bloodied one he’d clung to upon being helped into the bed. She tucked Harry in with the careful attention he’d come to appreciate, over his many Hospital Wing stays, and looked towards the door at the sound of footsteps. He’d find out what the commotion was all about when she returned with news, more likely than not. Perhaps someone had fallen out of a window, in which case, he’d have company. “I’d better be going. Whatever it is, they need me.”

She quickly made her way to the door, leaving it open for a mere second as someone’s chatter seeped in through the gap.

The door to the Hospital Wing closed with a soft click, and Harry’s eyes drooped.

So much for staying awake until she came back.

* * *

Harry felt as if he were clawing his way back to consciousness, blinking slowly as he took a deep breath. Someone was holding his hand, and he could hear voices buzzing around him. When he finally opened his eyes, nothing was clear, the world one strange blur of smeared colors until someone, thankfully, slid his glasses on.

“Whoa.” Harry whispered. “I can see.”

“You’ve been blind as a bat your whole life, and now you choose to go and make idiotic comments about your glasses?” His mother’s voice drifted into his ears, and a moment later her face appeared above him. Words that would normally be colored by wry amusement were strained with barely contained worry.

The hand grasping Harry’s own tightened around his, and Matt leaned in to look at him, tears pooling in brown eyes. “Harry? Are you alright?” He whispered.

“What happened?” Sarah asked, voice hoarse.

Harry lifted his uninjured arm, which felt strangely heavy, and smacked her clumsily on the side. Sarah scowled at him, though she looked much less menacing than usual.

“Fell down the stairs.” He said. “Dumbledore was there.”

“Fell down the stairs?” Lily repeated in disbelief. “What, did you manage to fall off the moving staircases? When Dumbledore was with you?!”

“I thought-- I thought you would be angry.” Harry said, frowning. “You hate it when he does anything. And-- and this time, he took me away from school and we went to a weird cave and--”

“You went into a cave with an old man just because he told you to?” Anne’s voice came next. She was standing beside Sarah, looking mildly uncomfortable to be back at Hogwarts. “No wonder you’re always getting injured.”

“Stranger danger, Hari.” Matt said sternly.

“And then we found…” Harry reached across himself to pull the locket out of his pocket, before remembering that Anne was standing beside him, watching him expectantly. “Amma, can you ask Anne to…”

“You can ask Anne to do whatever you want, but she isn’t going to listen.” Anne said, eyes narrowed. “Not if you continue to talk about her like she isn’t standing right there.”

“It’ll upset her.” Harry said. “Her and Sarah and Matt too. But… it’s important that I show you what we found.”

Lily sighed, briefly pinching the bridge of her nose as though to ward off a headache. “Why don’t the three of you go see if you can find Madame Pomfrey, alright?” She said, ignoring the chorus of protests as she herded the youngest of her children away from Harry’s bed. Once they were gone, she returned to his side, an expectant look on her face.

Harry handed the locket to his mother, whose eyes widened almost comically as she clutched at the chain.

“It’s fake.” Harry said, voice shaking. “We did all of this for nothing.”

Lily stared down at the locket with a look of dawning horror. It was as though she knew something that Harry didn’t- like she had a piece of key information he was missing that would make this puzzle make sense.

“Amma?” Harry asked.

“Dumbledore is dead.” Lily croaked, sinking to sit on the edge of Harry’s bed.

“He’s-- he’s dead?” Harry asked, unbelieving. “No, no way. No way. He can’t be.”

After a long moment of tense silence, Lily struggled to open the locket clasp with shaking hands. It sprung open with a creak, and from within she produced a frayed piece of parchment, folded in on itself several times.

“To the Dark Lord - I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.” Lily paused here, her eyes suddenly shiny with unshed tears. “Signed, R.A.B.”

“Who’s Rab?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Not Rab, sweetheart.” Lily whispered. “R-A-B. Regulus Arcturus Black.”


	21. The End of an Era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily Evans, as if suddenly noticing her husband was absent from the row of seats, frowned at Harry, a million questions in her eyes, and Harry shrugged, turning his attention back toward the marble table.
> 
> Dumbledore’s death, evidently, wasn’t the only thing he had to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week is the last chapter -- we'll wrap up the remaining loose threads in this book, and move onward from here. It feels strange, to be leaving Hogwarts behind, but you all know, just as we do, that it'll be back sooner than we think.
> 
> -S&L

Dumbledore’s funeral was somber and well attended, despite the buzz of unease hanging over the crowd. While Harry had been unconscious in the Hospital Wing, Death Eaters had infiltrated the school- once thought to be the safest place in the Wizarding World. They had murdered the headmaster atop the astronomy tower, flinging his body into the courtyard below.

Harry had slept through a battle that rivaled that of the Department of Mysteries. Luckily, no one had died as the Death Eaters made their escape, but Bill Weasley and Neville Longbottom had both been treated for substantial injuries. Harry had watched as Fleur had dissolved into tears over her boyfriend, and Ron had quietly excused himself from his brother’s side when Mrs. Weasley had started an argument with her to hide with Harry.

Guests had arrived from near and far for Dumbledore’s funeral, among them the headmistress of Beauxbatons, and a delegation from the Ministry of Magic, including the Minister himself. Harry was almost positive he had seen several merpeople poking their heads out of the Black Lake. Old and young, shabby and rich, human and creature alike. It was an extraordinary assortment of people, and in a better situation, Harry might have found enjoyment in identifying them all.

They were all sitting in golden chairs that had been conjured in front of the Black Lake, the rows and rows of chairs divided down the middle by an aisle leading up to a large, ornate marble table. Harry was seated with his family, Matt clutching his hand almost desperately. Lily was seated at the far end of the row next to Sarah, James at the other end with Anne. Harry hadn’t been meant to know, but his youngest sister had whispered to him that the two had gotten into a massive row regarding the fact that James had participated in the battle against the Death Eaters, after Dumbledore had been killed, instead of being by Harry’s side. Looking at his father now, Harry could see the mounting tension within him in the stern set of his jaw and the stony look in his eyes. Being in the marital doghouse had never suited James Potter well, and if Harry’s mother was to be believed, it hadn’t suited him even before they were dating.

A strange sort of music interrupted his thoughts- music that was nearly gut wrenching in its pain and loss. It was rising from the lake itself, from the merpeople who had now gathered into a solid knot as close to the shore as they could. It went on for several moments, and suddenly the crowd shifted to stare at the back of the aisle.

Hagrid stood there, walking slowly forward- in his arms was a bundle of deep purple fabric, inside which Harry realized must be Dumbledore’s body. Tears the size of baseballs rolled down Hagrid’s face, disappearing into his beard. He was not the only one crying -- many members of the crowd were hiding their faces in their hands, some even wailing in sorrow.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted Theodore Nott, looking just as troubled as always, turn tail and run toward the castle. Evidently, he wasn’t the only one that had noticed. His father’s expression grew stormier before he leaned in toward Harry.

“I’ll be back.” He said, before getting up and quickly making his way down the aisle, following Nott back up toward the castle.

Lily Evans, as if suddenly noticing her husband was absent from the row of seats, frowned at Harry, a million questions in her eyes, and Harry shrugged, turning his attention back toward the marble table.

Dumbledore’s death, evidently, wasn’t the only thing he had to worry about.

* * *

James shut the door of his office behind himself, frowning as he looked Theodore up and down. The Nott boy was shivering, glancing furtively at the door every few seconds, avoiding looking at James like his life depended upon it. James sighed. It was to be expected, given the situation Theodore had just been in. Witnessing the funeral of the one man who kept the Death Eaters mostly out of Hogwarts was tough enough for a child whose family would fight with the Order, but must have been harder still for Theodore, who would surely be sought out for “betraying” his family.

“Hey kid.” James said.

Theodore’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

“You doing alright?” James asked.

Theodore’s mouth opened and closed, like a goldfish trapped in a glass bowl, before shrugging. He trained his eyes on the carpet, running a hand through his hair as he shuffled his weight between his feet. Theodore had always been nervous, from that first day James had called him aside during Defense three years ago, but this was a lot, even for him. He had seen the boy afraid too many times to count, more times than he would like, but this wasn’t just fear -- this was deep seated terror, and James shuddered to think of how Theodore Nott Senior had made this child so terrified of the prospect of simply returning to a home that wasn’t empty.

“I figured as much.” James said softly, walking over to his chair. He grabbed the top of it with his hands, to keep them in full view, and smiled as Theodore relaxed, the distance provided by James’ desk coming between them providing some relief. “Listen… I wanted to talk to you specifically, of all my students. I’ve worried particularly about you, if something like this were to happen, and… well, we’re here, aren’t we? So we’ve got to work with what we have. You know that as well as I do.”

Theodore nodded shakily. He looked up at James, eyes swimming with tears.

James wanted nothing more than to reach across the desk and squeeze his shoulder, to offer some form of support for this boy who so desperately needed it, but he knew better -- he’d made the mistake of stepping over boundaries too many times to do it thoughtlessly.

“I’ve…” James cleared his throat. “I’ve arranged an opportunity for you, if you’d like. Outside England. It’s… It’s far less safe for you to be here than it was, given Dumbledore’s passing. I know it was hard enough for you before, but now… This place will go to the dogs within weeks. That’s how they do it, how they ruin people -- they start with the schools and move outward from there. They didn’t have a way into Hogwarts last time, and now… well, they’ve employed former Death Eaters before. Why not current ones?”

“There are current Death Eaters here now.” Theodore said, through gritted teeth. His fists were clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms. “Right this very minute. Inside the school.”

James nodded solemnly. “I assumed as much.”

“What-- what kind of opportunity?”

“You’ve got excellent marks in Transfiguration, Theo. I’ve been keeping an eye on how you’ve been doing over the last year and a half, just to make sure you’re holding up alright given everything that’s happened with you and your family, and you’ve been doing remarkably. Even I didn’t do that well.” James chuckled. “Regardless, one of my colleagues is in the market for an apprentice, and I sent your marks his way. He’s willing to take you on as soon as term ends.”

“Really?” Theo asked, blinking in surprise. “B--but I haven’t finished my NEWTs yet.”

“Everyone with any sense is taking next year off.” James said. “You might as well pick up some skills during that time. Have fun while learning.”

Theodore seemed to consider this for a moment, staring intently at his worn leather shoes while he wrung his hands in front of him.

Anthony Stebbins, a Ravenclaw in James’ year that he’d often worked with on Transfiguration projects, hadn’t been particularly pleased to hear from an old classmate, having put all thoughts and mentions of his Hogwarts years behind him after the First War. He’d left England at the tail end of the seventies, swearing that he would never return, along with his friend, Adrian, a short, perpetually disheveled looking photographer that had somehow been picked for the Slug Club over James, something James was eternally thankful for. Stebbins and Adrian had always been inseparable, in their school days, to the point where Peter had jokingly called them a poor man’s James and Sirius. James was hardly surprised by Stebbins revealing they were still living together -- it seemed only logical, and Stebbins had always been a huge fan of logic.

“I-- I don’t think I can do it.” Theodore said, with an air of finality. “I didn’t earn it and-- I don’t want things to just be given to me.”

“I can understand that.” James said. “But this isn’t really about me giving you an opportunity -- this is about your safety, once the war begins, which could honestly be any moment now. This is about you being safe. And, to your credit, you earned it. Stebbins is tough to impress.”

“I understand, but… I can’t leave the others.” Theodore said, with a sharp nod. “There are others, like me, and not all of them can leave. Some of them are too small, and some of them don’t know better yet, and I can’t leave them here. I can’t let them get hurt so that I can be safe.”

James shook his head, a soft smile lighting up his face. “You know, I shouldn’t have expected any different. You’ve always been uniquely brave, Theo.”

“I’d be in Gryffindor, if I were brave.” Theodore said.

“Not everyone in Gryffindor is brave.” James countered. “And not everyone who’s brave is in Gryffindor.”

“I guess.” Theodore shrugged.

“It’s about what you value, not about what you are.” James said. “That’s why I ended up in Gryffindor, at least. I was pretty enamored with the idea of rushing in and saving everyone, at eleven.” He shook his head. “And when the opportunity came to me, I couldn’t pass it up. Doesn’t mean I’m particularly good at it. But that’s enough qualification to teach Defense these days. Only reason I didn’t sign up to teach Transfiguration instead is because putting McGonagall out of a job would be signing my own death sentence. Can you imagine? Leaving poor Mrs. Potter with five kids to support. I’d be killed after dying as well.”

Theodore laughed, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Ah, anyway.” James said. “I’ll let Stebbins know that you’ve got something else in mind. No harm done.”

“I’m-- I’m sorry.” Theodore said, averting his eyes. “You probably had to do a lot of convincing, to make him take me on.”

“None, actually.” James smiled. “Your work spoke for itself. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Theo. By quite a bit.”

Theodore grumbled something under his breath, shifting his weight between his feet again.

“You know, you’re one of the students I’m proudest of.” James said. “If anyone asks me what I did right at this school… you’re first on that list.”

“I-- I wouldn’t be first.” Theodore argued, but James cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Having a student like you was a gift. I learned as much from you as you did from me, I think, if not more.” James said. “My door’s always open to you, Theo. After everything you’ve done for Anne… leaving you in danger would be terrible of me. I owe you a lot.”

“It’s not danger if I’m ready to handle it.” Theodore said. “Someone’s got to stick up for kids like me, and I had a pretty good teacher once that told me I could do it.”

“Send him flowers or something.” James joked, holding his hand out for Theodore to shake. “Once all this war business is over.”

“The ugly sort.” Theodore shook it, smiling. “As many as I can fit in one of those terrible looking glass vases that the Malfoys have.”

“Done.” James laughed. “I’ll be expecting them, then.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to wait long.”

“Hopefully.”

* * *

“I’ll have you know that I did nothing wrong.” James said, forcefully shuffling around some papers, as Lily entered his office. It was clear he was making the mess purely to give his hands something to do -- much of his office had been emptied into several messily taped cardboard boxes stacked by the fireplace. Every piece of furniture in the room had been cleaned until it shone, almost as if James was trying to return it to its glory days, back when they had been in school.

“Did you get fired?” Lily asked, eyebrows raised.

James stood up, unpinning another one of their children’s drawings from the wall before slipping it into a paper folder he seemed to have reserved for just this purpose, judging by the amount of glittery, colorful construction paper sticking out of it.

“Well, I suppose your boss dying is a good enough way to get fired, isn’t it. Had to go out with a bang.” He smirked. “Funny how things work out, isn’t it?”

“You aren’t planning on coming back, then.” She said, though she didn’t sound surprised.

“Think about it, Lily.” James sighed. “There won’t be a Hogwarts to come back to, in a few months, if Snape and his gang really are about, and following Voldemort’s orders to boot. I wanted to fight for Hogwarts one last time, while it was still worth fighting for.”

“James, it wasn’t worth fighting for before this.” Her voice sounded strained. “Harry was injured-- your first duty is to this family.”

“He had you, Lily.” James said. “Why should I have worried?”

“Because you could have died!” She cried. “What’s the point of agreeing not to participate in this war if you run off and get yourself killed at the first possible chance? Just… No more.”

James took down the last of the drawings, sliding it into the folder, before tucking the folder into his briefcase. The room looked emptier without the evidence of their children’s lives pasted all over the walls like a second layer of wallpaper, leaving it looking bare and cold. Even the jungle of framed pictures that had consumed half of James’ desk were missing, ostensibly packed away before everything else, leaving more of his desk space free than Lily had ever seen before.

Only the books on the bookshelves provided any semblance of personality to the room, and with a sweeping wave of James’ wand, they packed themselves into one of the empty cardboard boxes, leaving the shelves empty. He looked around the room, hands on his hips, before flicking his wand at the papers on his desk, which neatly clipped themselves together and flew across the room to gently set themselves down on top of the books.

“Well, that’s done.” James crossed his arms. “Look at this place, huh?” A fond smile bloomed on his face. “Feels weird, seeing it so empty. I was supposed to clean out every summer, so I should’ve seen it this way more often, but you know me. I knew I was coming back, so I never really bothered.”

“Remember when you first started?” Lily sighed, sitting on his empty desk, obviously trying to reign in her temper. “You kept fussing over what to hang where… Doesn’t seem much like it mattered now, does it?”

“Yeah.” James smirked, shaking his head. “That really was something, wasn’t it?”

“Honestly, I thought you’d be a terrible teacher.” Lily told him. “You certainly surprised all of us.”

“I mean, I worried too, for sure.” James laughed. “I had some proof by the end, though. Some of these kids… it’ll be hard not to see them again in September.” He hung his head. “Especially thinking of what’s coming for them… they’re not going to be the same, if I do see them again. War does that to people.”

Lily never would have entertained the thought of marrying James as he was before the war. Cocky, headstrong, and more than capable of hitting all of the wrong buttons. But the war had forced all of them to grow up too quickly -- the boy she had spent years hating was suddenly a man with a smile that was convincing no one. He was always attempting to lighten the mood, always striving to do better, to be better, to save people there was no chance of saving.

“There’s some of them I know can handle it. Thomas, Finnigan, those two are fine. They’ve got each other, they’ll sort it out. Finch-Fletchley has a good head on his shoulders, even if he was a little insufferable at first. And Kyung will be just fine, from what Charu’s saying -- his family is on their way out tomorrow, and they won’t be back until this business is over.” James said, overflowing with pride as he named students. “But Theodore… I’ll worry about Theodore until it’s all over, I guess. He’s a wild card. Anything could happen, you know?”

James had never been able to admit to how he thought of Theodore the same way he thought about Sirius when they were younger. Here was a boy he could save-- someone he could help. But Lily had seen it even in the early days, had watched as James helped Theodore grow into himself the same way he’d helped Sirius years and years ago.

“He helped Anne when she needed someone at her side.” Lily said. “Is there any way we can help him? I know he won’t be a target for the Death Eaters, but… We saw what happened with Regulus, and now we know how he ended up…” She paused, clenching her fists together in her lap.

Regulus had always been a thin slip of a boy-- always by himself, even when surrounded by other soon-to-be Death Eaters, or when he was attending Slug Club dinners beside her. There had been something helpless about him, and though she knew he would never accept it, she had always been ready to offer friendship to him.

“I got him an apprenticeship with Stebbins, and he turned it down because he wanted to help the Slytherins rebel from the inside. Says he knows what the Death Eaters are planning better than anyone, and he’s the right man for the job, that way.” James said, shaking his head. “I told him to do what he wanted, but to be safe about it.”

“Going against what’s safe to play the hero?” Lily turned to look at her husband. “I wonder why that sounds so familiar.”

“Maybe he does, a little.” James shrugged. “Told him he’s got a safe place at ours for as long as he needs it. Don’t like the idea of him out there alone.”

“We have five children, James, we don’t need any more.”

“He’s practically an adult, as it is. We’ll replace Hari.” James teased. “He’ll be eighteen in July? Who needs him after that? Gone, done, no more of that. Nott we can count on to be loyal, and he gets along with Anjali. Two positives.” He smiled.

She snorted, shaking her head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Hari is going to be clinging to our robes for years to come. It’s going to be a fight to get him to move out.”

“Hari’s outdone himself this year, hasn’t he?” James said. “It’s been interesting, watching him from here. Definitely something I’m ready to let go of. Too much stress, for an old man like me. Can’t take that kind of responsibility anymore, you know?”

“So old.” Lily sighed, leaning back. “Honestly, I can’t stand to look at you. I think you’re getting wrinkles, James.”

“Ah, come on, you got what I meant.” James said, with a wave of his hand. He packed the last of his things away, then grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and tossed it into the lit fireplace, turning the flames dancing inside green. “Potter residence!”

Lily leaned down, picking up two boxes stacked precariously atop one another. “Ready to go, professor?”

“Yeah.” James nodded. “I think I am.”

And with that, James and Lily Potter stepped out of Hogwarts and back into their own lives, leaving behind a cavernous hole of an empty office and a host of problems that had never been meant for them to solve.


	22. Last Day of School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You guys…” Harry folded his hands in his lap, tearing up slightly. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be part of this. This isn’t… neither of you signed up for this.”
> 
> “We definitely did, Harry.” Ron told him. 
> 
> “You sure about this?” Harry asked.
> 
> “Positive.” Hermione said. “Time to go camping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And book six comes to an end with a whimper. The bang is coming, don't worry, and it's not one you'll like.
> 
> As always, let us know what you think in the comments. Thanks for riding this ride with us. We've had a great time, and we hope you do too.
> 
> Get your camping gear ready -- we're going on a trip. ;)
> 
> -S&L

“Is this a bad time?” Harry asked nervously. “I’ve got something we need to discuss.”

Ron and Hermione were huddled close on Ron’s bed, whispering animatedly to each other. They seemed knee deep in some intense conversation, a smile on Ron’s face as Hermione gestured wildly about herself, obviously disproving something he’d just said. At the sound of Harry’s voice, Hermione suddenly scooted away from Ron, who blinked in surprise.

“It’s never a bad time for you.” Hermione said, patting the space on the bed between them. “Come on then, what’s wrong?”

The rest of the room was empty, Dean and Seamus likely canoodling on one of the couches downstairs, and the quiet was likely why Ron and Hermione had retreated up the stairs to get some space from the crowds still milling after the funeral. The loss of Dumbledore had hit everyone hard, and the guests were mostly aimlessly wandering through the hall of Hogwarts, reminiscing about their school days and memories of the headmaster. Harry had had more than enough of it, but his friends had been nowhere to be found, and he hadn’t thought to check the dormitory until he had searched every room nearly half of the floors. It was a terrifying testament to how scrambled his thoughts were, and he was ignoring it as determinedly as possible.

“I’ll be leaving.” Harry said, after a few seconds of mustering up the courage to speak. He hadn’t admitted it aloud yet, and saying it finally, after months of contemplation, felt strangely natural, like everything had been leading up to these words, this commitment. He would be leaving. He would not be returning to school next year. That was the easy half of the statement, however. The part that would hurt, the part that would burn holes in his heart, was yet to come, and he forced the words out of his mouth with one strong push, like tearing off a bandage. “Not… not with my parents. By myself. Someone’s got to find the rest of the Horcruxes, and it might as well be me. There’s anywhere from none to four more out there, and I can’t just sit by and hide. I can’t.”

There was a beat of silence as Hermione and Ron stared at him, broken by his best friend letting out a snort. “I feel like I hash out a list of weird and dangerous shit we’ve done together at least once a year, don’t you? At this point it might take all night.” Ron got to his face, clapping his hand to Harry’s shoulder. Despite the joking tone he had taken on, his face was serious. “I’m not about to go and leave you on your own now.”

“We’re coming with you.” Hermione said, tone brooking no argument. “We’ve been with you from the beginning, and we’re not leaving you to handle this alone now. The only question is when.”

“When?” Harry asked, scratching his head. “I, uh, hadn’t thought about that part.”

“You’ve got to plan ahead, Harry.” Hermione groaned. “You can’t just run into things, especially with a potentially dangerous trip like this. What will you do for money? For food and water and shelter? Where are you planning to look? How are you planning to travel? You don’t have your license, and the Ministry keeps an eye on those things, so that’s unwise. Luckily you’ll have us, and I’ve managed to figure out Side-Along quite well.”

“Did you just plan to grab a backpack and set out? Honestly, mate.” Ron sighed. “Sometimes I feel more like your parent than your friend.”

“I wasn’t planning to just up and go.” Harry grumbled. “I was going to make a plan. I’m not an idiot.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Ron snickered.

“Come on.” Harry whined. “I’m being serious. I don’t know what to do, but there was less to figure out for one person. If-- If you’re set on joining me, and I really can’t talk you out of it, there’s a lot more planning to be done. We’ve got to figure out all those things that Hermione talked about and more -- they’ll be cleaning out Dumbledore’s office soon enough, and I need to find any clues we might need that he’s got.”

“The first item is how soon we’re leaving, because that speeds up the process.” Hermione said.

“Oh.” Ron blinked, turning to look down at his girlfriend. “Well, I didn’t tell you, but Bill and Fleur are planning on getting married this summer. I think the date was set around the first of August? It would be a good chance to slip away without anyone noticing.”

“Good catch, Ron.” Hermione nodded, deftly declining the chance to remind Ron that Molly Weasley had given her an invitation over winter break and had reacted rather strangely to Hermione asking if she could bring a date. “Good, the first of August will work well. Isn’t that when your parents are planning to leave too, Harry?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded. “As far as I know, first of August. They need some time to pack up the house, and Dad’s got to talk to his family some to figure out options.”

“Harry, do you have any paper on you? We can start writing these things down.” Hermione reached over the edge of the bed for Ron’s school bag, rummaging around inside it before sighing in disappointment. “I’ve got a packing checklist for Hogwarts that I can grab from my dormitory as well, just give me a few minutes. I’ll get both.” She swung her feet off the bed and onto the floor, stopping for a short, slightly awkward touch to Ron’s shoulder before exiting the room, her loud footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“So”, Harry said, eyebrows raised, “making progress, are we?”

“I will hex you.” Ron said, but he was smiling dopily at the doorway Hermione had disappeared through.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be third wheeling the two of you for a whole year.” Harry sighed. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“Same rubbish you always do -- trouble.”

Hermione returned triumphantly, with three copies of a thick, stapled bunch of papers.

“I’m so glad I thought to bring extras. This will be so helpful.” She passed out a packet each to Ron and Harry, reminding Harry strangely of primary school. “Undetectable Extension Charms are easily done -- I can do one on a bag for each of us, if you’ll just mail me one, Harry. I’ll be at Ron’s again this summer, so his part of this is easily finished. After that, we’ll all have to gather up these things individually for each of us, and we’ll have everything ready to go. This is enough for nine months at Hogwarts, so it should hopefully last us for nine months. Beyond this, obviously food and water are priorities, but that can likely be figured out in small Muggle towns, where the wizarding population is low. We’ll need a list of those, so I’ll begin searching. We can plan our locations and where we’re moving that way.”

“You guys…” Harry folded his hands in his lap, tearing up slightly. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be part of this. This isn’t… neither of you signed up for this.”

“We definitely did, Harry.” Ron told him.

“You sure about this?” Harry asked.

“Positive.” Hermione said. “Time to go camping.”

* * *

“Going to India after all of this will be nice.” Matt murmured.

“I know, right?” James shook his head. He was lounging on the couch, Sarah tucked under one of his arms, head resting against his shoulder, and Anne on the other side. Drew and Matt had clustered around Lily in much the same way, Harry seated on the floor, leaning against her legs as she played with his hair. The Potters, despite the trouble looming over them, had found peace in their circumstances, landing on their feet yet again.

“Remind me to buy some sunscreen before we leave.” Lily sighed.

“A lot of sunscreen.” Anne corrected.

“Are we staying at Thatha and Patti’s house?” Matt asked, peeking over his mother to look at James. They hadn’t visited the home they owned in India in years, but he could remember curling up beneath one of the large windows, the sun shining through.

“I miss playing on the roof!” Drew said excitedly.

“There’s only so many cushioning charms we can cast, Adi.” Sarah teased. “Be careful about staying on the right side of the fence this time.”

“Oh come on!” He whined. “I was five! Amma, tell her.”

“She has a point, buggy.” Lily laughed.

“When we were little… I don’t really remember visiting family. Since Thatha and Patti are dead, anyways...” Anne frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But you’ve been sending a lot of letters, Appa. Is there something going on?”

“I would’ve had to tell you anyway.” James said, holding Anne a little closer. He looked to Lily for a second, something unreadable in his eyes, before looking away. “Before we got there, I mean. You kids are old enough to know the dirty politics of it, and I promise you, I will not make you be around the people who did the worst of it.”

“Sounds serious.” Anne said, eyeing her father warily.

“Please don’t tell me we fought the government or something there too.” Sarah groaned.

“No, we didn’t.” James said. “Though I wish we kind of had.”

“Okay, so who’s the problem?” Drew frowned.

“I am.” James said.

“What?” Lily looked at James, confusion clear on her face.

“Well, the problem isn’t me so much as it was… us.” James sighed. “My mother’s family wasn’t fond of the idea of me marrying your mother. Most of my father’s side understood, seeing as my uncle married Sirius’... great aunt, I think? So all of my family that you’ve met is on my father’s side. We’ve seen them here and there, but I wasn’t all too close to them as a child, so there wasn’t anyone really worth seeing. Now, seeing as we’ll be there for quite awhile…” He cracked his neck. “I, uh, reached out to some people. Made some amends. Things have obviously calmed down, in eighteen years. Some people are willing to apologize for things that were said.”

“People were mad?” Anne seemed perplexed.

“You have to understand it from their point of view.” James said. “You obviously feel responsible for your grandson or nephew or cousin turning out right, seeing as he’s grown up around the Brits, so you’ve invested yourself in working out things like who he’s going to marry and making sure he helps carry on the family business. And then that kid turns out to be a wartime police officer who married a girl he met in secondary that you know nothing about. And she’s British. It-- it scared a lot of people off, and the easiest thing to do at the time was to avoid it. Of course, us going into hiding certainly helped, and, as you can imagine, I didn’t feel the need to talk to people who didn’t agree with me.” James shook his head. “I didn’t expect anything else, going in. It was 1978, I knew they were going to take it badly. I couldn’t have expected anything else. Now, these types of things are more common. People are willing to look past it. And if they’re willing to leave it in the past, so am I.”

“So this means we get to meet the people you actually grew up with?” Drew asked.

“For better or for worse, yes. I spent a lot more time with my mother’s family than my father’s. Lived with my maternal grandparents for a bit, actually, but that’s another story.” James laughed. “Your grandparents’ house isn’t secure enough for a long term stay like this, it’s not large enough for seven people to be comfortable for that amount of time. My dad’s parents’ home, however, is empty at the moment, and one of my aunts says my uncles have no objection to us using it, seeing as it is technically in my name.” He shrugged. “So, you kids are getting the crash course on our entire family now. Prepare yourselves.”

Lily reached out, placing a hand over James’. “Are you sure things are alright?” She asked quietly. “I wouldn’t want to be the cause of coming between you and your family again, dear.”

“Wouldn’t expose you to anyone who wasn’t worth the trouble. Everyone who doesn’t agree with our family has been properly excommunicated, and the people who want to be in our lives now have been thoroughly vetted.” James frowned. “Except that one time with Voldemort, but I was stupid back then.”

“Back then?” Sarah asked.

“Back then.” James confirmed.

“Are we moving, like… right now?” Matt asked hesitantly. “I wanted to see Bertie before we left.”

“August first. We’ll use Bill and Fleur’s wedding as cover to leave without being noticed. I’ll be sending things intermittently, so make sure to get anything you absolutely need to have to me early so that you don’t risk forgetting it on the first.” James said. “I expect all of us to keep this information to ourselves. We’re not sharing this with anyone. You don’t know who you can trust these days.”

“Even to your friends.” Lily warned. “If you write any letters, make sure never to mention that we’re leaving. We don’t know who could be reading them.”

“Even to Ron and Hermione?” Harry frowned.

“We really don’t know who could be reading them.” Lily repeated.

“Yeah.” Harry allowed. “Makes sense.”

“We’re planning on cleaning out the house entirely, in case we get, uh, visited, while we’re out, so your mother’s found some Muggle storage unit we can keep our less obviously wizarding things in. Anything you’re sure you won’t need, but would like to keep, please get that sorted with her. We have a busy summer ahead, and can’t waste any time. Only about a month and a half to August first, from here.”

“Do you… do you mean Death Eaters might come here?” Matt clenched his fists in his lap.

“Don’t worry, Madhu.” Lily said, running a hand through his hair. “We’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

 

“I don’t like the idea of… of them in our house.” Matt whispered.

“I know, baby.” Lily sighed. “Why don’t you start cleaning out your room now? Might help to keep your mind off things.”

“Come on, Madhu.” Sarah said, hopping up from the couch. “We won’t need any of our winter things, so we’ll pack those away together. Appa found some boxes we can put things away in.”

“I’ll help.” Harry said, stumbling to his feet. “Got stuff to take care of myself.”

“I’ll get to work on my room, too.” Anne sighed, following the rest of her siblings out the door.

Drew paused in the doorway, watching his siblings troop up the stairs before turning to look at his parents. “So… we’re really leaving, huh?”

“Yeah.” James smiled sadly. “We really are.”

* * *

Harry crept down the stairs to the landing where his grandparents' photo hung, hoping not to wake either of his parents. They'd never been sound sleepers, but lately, it seemed easier to wake them than usual.

Everyone in the house was on edge, and it was impossible to get a word in edgewise without setting off anyone. The kids were beginning to pick up on it even more intensely than they already had, Matt retreating to his room when not gathering little trinkets and books that were scattered around the house to pack away, Anne mumbling to herself as she sorted through old clothes, and Sarah wrapping her more obviously Wizarding books in brown paper carefully before putting them in the pile to go to Muggle storage, screaming at whoever dared speak to her if even one corner was not folded perfectly. Even Drew was beginning to crack under the pressure, keeping to the edges of everyone's vision as he took care of his own business. Not a single shred of mischief had been done, since Harry and his siblings had returned to Hogwarts, but it wasn't to be celebrated this time. Was anything worth celebrating, with this strange sense of doom weighing on them all?

When he reached the landing, however, he realized there was another figure sitting hunched over on the step, whispering to the people in the portrait.

"Guess I'm not the only one out here tonight." Harry said, sitting down beside his father.

"Funny how that works out." James said, pulling Harry closer by the shoulder. "Say hello, then."

"Hi." Harry waved, and the figures in the portrait waved back, his grandmother blowing him a kiss, which Harry pretended to catch and press to his cheek. "Sorry. It's been a long time."

"School is school." His grandfather said, with a shrug. "Hopefully you are focusing on your studies instead of causing mischief now." He fixed Harry with an expectant stare, as if hoping that Harry might immediately agree, disparaging all that dared cause trouble at Hogwarts. Maybe that's why his grandfather had been a prefect -- for the exact reason that Harry had not become one, the ability to stay out of trouble, and keep those around him clear of it as well.

"Don't know if you want me to answer that question, Thatha." Harry said, prompting a laugh from his grandmother, who obviously knew full well that Harry outdid himself with every passing year and that she shouldn't hope for him to turn into Sarah any time soon. "I swear, no international incidents. Not even one."

"That's quite a standard." His grandfather said, looking to his wife with surprise written all over his face.

"It is." James said, with a soft laugh. "He's quite the boy. Almost seventeen, right, Hari?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "In a month, about."

"Older than I thought." His grandmother said, with a slight frown. "Has it really been that long?"

"It's been that long." James confirmed, looking rather ashamed. "Haven't been home in... twenty years."

"Twenty years." Harry's grandfather repeated, a sorrowful look in his eyes. "That's a long time to be far from home."

Harry had never thought about it that way. As children, they'd gone frequently to India, but rarely met any family members. It had mostly been a chance to visit a few temples, give some money at Tirupati, and see the places his father had grown up. They had rarely met family, cousins of his father who never invited them home, and sometimes old friends of his father from his summers spent with his grandparents. Of course, they'd always stayed in the small, dusty Thanjavur house his grandparents had lived in during the First War, but Harry had never thought that there might have been a whole life beyond it, for his father, a crowd of people he was missing.

"I've built a good one here." James said, squeezing Harry's shoulder. "No reason to miss something when you've got a perfectly good substitute right here, hm?"

"No reason at all." Harry's grandmother agreed. "This is a good life. You did well, thangame. It's time to let it go now."

"You're talking about it like it's over." Harry joked weakly. "We made it out of the war once, we can do it again."

"There's little chance they leave us, this time." Harry's grandfather said, a stern set to his face, the gears turning inside his head made obvious by the thoughtful look in his eyes. Harry often forgot he'd been an Auror, but moments like this were a strong reminder. "We were last by luck, before. Now... Now, we're the first ones they'll look for."

"This was a good house." Harry's grandmother said, her eyes shiny with tears. "It kept us well. Don't you remember coming here for the first time, Nacchu?"

Harry giggled. It was always funny to hear his grandmother call his grandfather Nacchu, though Harry knew it was a perfectly normal nickname for Narayanan. It was funny to think of his solid, stoic grandfather as the type of person who even had a nickname.

"Ah, yeah." Harry's grandfather smiled. "You were but a baby in arms, weren’t you? When my parents built this house? And now you’re nearing forty. Funny how times change, isn't it? How new things grow old?"

"It's funny." James replied, staring down at the wood of the stairs. He traced the lines of the wood grain with his fingertips, obviously remembering some long forgotten escapade. "They won't leave the house, will they, Appa?"

"They won't." His father confirmed, voice thick with unshed tears. "You know them, Janu. They will not leave us this."

James nodded. "They won't."

"Is that why we're really leaving?" Harry asked.

"We can't die like that, Hari." James said firmly. "We almost did once. You almost did once. I will not let them take us. If we lose things, we lose things. It's the people that matter, and people can go anywhere with you." He kissed the top of Harry's head. "Remember that. For your own sake. People make homes, not any thing you could own."

"Yes, Appa." Harry said, thinking of the betrayal he had in store for his parents, how they would be losing one of their people sooner than later. "I won't let you lose anyone this time."


End file.
